Ripples of Chaos
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: This is a spinoff of Chaos Theory exploring Glorfindel and Erestor's attitudes and feelings toward each other. Yes, it is a slash fic, but otherwise as canon as possible. COMPLETE!
1. The First Ripple

The Ring has been destroyed. Victory is ours!

Erestor must have read those two simple lines a thousands times over before he really believed them. Coming to his ordinarily decorous senses, the Chief Advisor to Lord Elrond bid the young messenger the welcome of Imladris. Out of an age old habit, the orderly, dark-haired, dark-clothed Elf turned to look for a guard or someone, anyone, who could show the exhausted young man to a comfortable place to rest. Spotting only Lindir nearby, Erestor decided he would have to do and enlisted the minstrel's assistance for the messenger while he himself rushed to Elrond's study with the missive.

The Elf-lord's doors were closed, ordinarily not a good sign. Erestor took a deep breath and knocked gently but firmly. No answer. Maybe it was more than just not a good sign, Erestor wondered. Maybe Elrond was in a mood like the one he was in the day before the Council met, that was now legendary in Imladris and probably a few other realms as well. Erestor tried again, summoning a little more courage. Still nothing. Even if his mood was really that bad, this news would certainly change it, Erestor though, steeling himself as he tentatively opened the study door.

Elrond sat at his desk looking like he was sound asleep but very annoyed about it. This was a curious sight to Erestor, who reasoned that Elrond was dreaming something mildly unpleasant. 'Well, he needs to know this more than he needs another unrestful sleep,' he thought, walking to Elrond and shaking him slightly.

Immediately Elrond's eyes unglazed. "Erestor, my apologies, i was in conversation with the Lady of Lorien," he said apologetically.

Erestor looked like he was going to be ill. He had just interrupted Galadriel? Would even the news of victory over Sauron be enough to appease her for his minor transgression, he wondered.

"Please, do not look so alarmed," Elrond said impassively. "She is only my mother-in-law and i am glad to have an excuse to veil my thoughts from her again. She has been getting persistent of late. What had you to speak to me of?"

Erestor wordlessly held forth the missive from Gondor. He watched Elrond intently, hoping to see a change, some reprieve to his mostly brooding humor of late. There was not a flinch discernable to even the Elven eye. "File this with confirmations, please, Erestor," the Lord of Imladris said with no change in his vocal tone whatsoever.

Erestor received the parchment back from Elrond but did not leave, his stare fixed on the Elf-lord. "You have known this whole time, have you not?" Erestor said with a mildly accusatory tone.

"I have known, Erestor," Elrond said, rising and walking out onto his balcony.

As far as the eye could see, beauty was returning to Imladris's lush river valley. The fair green of the tiniest of the first leaves on the trees hung about the branches like a fine lace. The paths were soft and new, dotted here and there with tiny purple and white flowers. The breeze was warm and welcome and fresh. The sun shone in such a way that all seemed illuminated. No more did a fell shadow insinuate itself about the Last Homely House East of the Sea.

And yet Elrond's mood remained. "In one week's time, Est-... Aragorn shall take up his crown. In one week's time, we shall depart Imladris and go into the East."

Erestor was starting to understand his friend's strange frame of mind. This thing was at the same time hoped for and dreaded by the Master of the House. It signaled the beginning of the end. Erestor nodded in acceptance. "I shall see to the preparations. Should i prepare any letters which you might need along the way?"

"I can think of none. But it matters not, i shall let you know if i decide one is in order," Elrond replied.

"You have but one week, Elrond," Erestor needlessly reminded him.

"Aye. One week before _we_ leave," Elrond said, stressing the word "we" as he made intent eye contact with his advisor.

Erestor stiffened. Surely Elrond did not mean...? Erestor's normally calm voice rose a good pitch or two. "Do you mean to intimate that you wish for me to accompany you to Gondor? Elrond, that is hardly possibly! How can i accompany you there and look after this place at once? Someone responsible has to remain here in your absence... I can not go walking all over Middle-"

"Lindir will stay," Elrond pre-empted.

"As i said... someone _responsible_ must stay." Erestor's dry humor was returning.

"And Bilbo will be here with him," Elrond said, knowing exactly how much that was going to annoy Erestor.

The raised pitch returned. "A Hobbit?! Do you know what we will come back to?! The whole valley will be filled with the smoke of Elf-bane and devoid of anything even remotely edible!"

"That may be, yes, but you may have a purpose in Gondor yet, Erestor. At any rate, how far could i get without my dearest advisor?" Elrond said, putting an arm around his perturbed friend's shoulder. "See to our preparations, will you not?" he said walking him toward the door.

Erestor was still a little tense but he complied. Walking down the hall he told himself that maybe it wouldn't really be all bad. Everyone kept saying how he needed a holiday....

"Oh, and fetch Glorfindel for me, please," Elrond shouted after him, grateful that Erestor could not see his conspirator's smirk.

Erestor nearly tore his hair out at the prospect of being stuck traveling with the Balrog-slaying idiot.


	2. Wrath Dinen

One week later.

Elrond's dark-haired advisor turned atop an equally dark-haired steed, looking back at the Last Homely House as if he might never see it again. His thoughts were a flurry of "did i do this? Did i see to that? Lindir will not be able to handle things if i did not-"

His thoughts were cut off when a white horse purposely walked into his. It's rider also matched its coloring with his fair blond tresses swept back in warrior's braids. "Pardon Asfaloth, good Erestor," Glorfindel said with a grin. "This early departing hour does not go well with him." It was no secret in Imladris who set such schedules.

"And i should order the schedules for the entire house based upon the whims of a horse?" Erestor said in a low tone of aggravation.

Glorfindel's irritating grin remained as he sped up to chat with those riding at the fore, purposely brushing against Erestor's thigh. The advisor forced himself to refrain from hacking off the Balrog-slayer's own offending thigh.

"Tell me again, my dear friend Elrond, why you have insisted that i accompany you?" Erestor asked morosely, looking back at the Elf-lord who was last in their procession.

Elrond fought back a snicker, briefly wondering if maybe one or the other of them shouldn't have stayed. He dismissed that thought, however, and said simply, "Because i can not carry on without you, Erestor." He knew if he just gave them enough time... and yet, was there that much time left for any Elf in all of arda? But still, history had proven him right before and besides, if he had to hear Glorfindel's whining any longer it was going to drive him mad (though rumor had it that it already had).

Never had Glorfindel and Erestor actually gotten along, per se. Nor had they ever actually fallen out of love, per se. It was just that they could not stand one another's presence. Elrond had tried everything in his power (or Vilya's) to get them to cease arguing for just ten minutes out of the last couple hundred years, but instead it only increased sharply, then Erestor started ignoring anything and everything concerning Glorfindel and things were, relatively, quiet, if not nerve-racking, in the river vale for the past 50 years. Elrond had a number of times seriously considered locking them in a closet until they were willing to see passed one another's idiosyncrasies, but the thought of one of the closets in his home being occupied by two bloodied Elves did not set well with him.

Elrond clapped Erestor lightly on the shoulder as he rode passed to join Glorfindel at the front for a time. His advisor wondered if his Lord had not just been reading his mind, else why did that touch seem meant to be encouraging? The Noldo decided he would have to start making a point to cloak his thoughts more often around Elrond.

"Erestor?" Arwen said, now riding parallel with the older Elf.

Erestor ceased his silent interrogation of Elrond's motives and turned his full attention to the future Queen of Gondor. "Aye, elleth-nín?"

"Why have you always argued for me?" she asked directly, but sweetly in her gentle Elven voice.

Erestor gave her a curious look. "In what regard, pen-neth?"

Arwen reached out to lightly touch Erestor's arm as she spoke quietly. "I know that you have always taken my side when you and adar have discussed going West. You have always said that the decision i have made is right. I would like to know what your reason is for believing so."

Erestor sighed deeply, wondering if he could choose his words correctly enough to intimate his meaning truthfully without saying more than he wished to be known. "My reason, Arwen, is that i know the gift you have been given. To receive such a choice from the Valar is not an ordinary occurrence. You have the ability to change your fate for someone you love. I would not see that decision wasted, that is all."

"You know, as do i, that he and i have such little time, as it seems to us. And yet you side with me?" she asked innocently.

"Arwen, dear, if you had but a year to spend with him you would be doing right. Such is the importance of love. Nary a day's worth of real, powerful love is far greater in worth than all of an Elven life of loneliness." Erestor seemed quieter than usual in his response and he was grateful that he was not asked anything further. So few knew anything at all of Erestor's life before Imladris. That was as he wished it to be.

Glorfindel on the other hand... every blade of grass in Imladris and several poor fools who had visited the vale knew everything about Glorfindel, down to the least significant iota.

Erestor's hopes were dashed that Glorfindel and Elrond would lead the van of this foray for the rest of the journey when he saw them riding back through the group. Erestor decided to pretend that there was not a garish blinding white gleam riding beside him.

---

_From Chapter 1: _

_Elf-bane - This is my own name for pipeweed. Since no Elves smoke (probably why they live forever) i figured this term might be fitting. And if my favorite advisor feel the same as i do about smoke...._

_From Chapter 2:_

_elleth-nin - my girl_

_pen-neth - little one_

_Asfaloth - Glorfindel's horse_

_Glorfindel - big, blond, obnoxious Elda with perfectly carved features_

_Many thanks to my first two reviewers, AM and Haldir's Heart and Soul. Hope you enjoy!_


	3. Different

Three weeks after departing Rivendell.

Eglerio! There, just ahead, lay Erestor's least favorite place in all of Middle-earth: Lothlorien. Not that he had anything against Elrond's wife, Celebrian was like a sister to him. And he and Celeborn had certainly had several very nice, intelligent conversations over the years. And most of the Elves who lived in the Golden Wood were nice, normal, non-Balrog-slaying people. In fact, he would have moved to Lorien ages ago, literally, if it had not been for _her_.

Riding through the shallow stream Glorfindel had been sure to splash Erestor several times. Though the raven-haired one made a good show of neither noticing nor caring, internally he was ready to rip Vilya from Elrond's hand and summon the water to swallow up the Balrog-slayer as the Bruinen had so neatly done with the Wraiths.

Suddenly Erestor was reminded of that psychic conversation he interrupted back in Rivendell. If the rumors were true that _she_ had given that big, strapping lad from Gondor a mental breakdown by merely looking at him, the advisor felt sure that he was done for. Oh, how he longed for a nice tall stack of parchment to busy himself with! He asked himself again, not for the last time, exactly why he had allowed himself to be dragged away from his content, orderly little study in Imladris to go gadding about all over Middle-earth. As for staying around with Lindir's absurd songs and Bilbo's Elf-bane, neither could ever exceed Glorfindel in the exasperating category. He was a true master!

Erestor managed to get through the initial greeting by the Lorien Three without too much disgust. Make that the Lorien Four... the way Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin all embraced Glorfindel one would believe them all four brothers. After a brief, quiet discussion with Elrond, the Lorien Four went to the fore of the group to lead them to Caras Galadon. Glorfindel left Erestor stuck with Asfaloth, who was not getting along well with Mornië, Erestor's horse. Now all he had to do was weave a steel curtain around his thoughts and he might be safe from _her_. If there was such a thing as being safe around such a person.

As they approached the giant tree (oh, how Erestor did detest living in trees and climbing ladders and such foolishness), Lorien's three Sinda border guards and their dear Elda friend left the way to the Lord and Lady's grand flet. Elrond then took up leading his people, and as the four "brothers" left the march Rúmil took Morni's reins and lead a quite shocked horse and rider off to the brother's talan.

Erestor didn't know whether to be grateful that he did not have to have an audience with _her_ immediately or agitated that they had disrupted his schedule. He had intended to get that trial over with as soon as possible. But then, he did now have more time to prepare. They halted in front of a tree and Orophin hopped swiftly up into the branches from where a rode ladder quickly descended, narrowly missing Erestor's head. Immediately upon Erestor's dismounting, Haldir whispered a command to Mornië and off he ran. Erestor glared at the March warden, who grinned serenely.

"After you, good Master Erestor," Haldir said, bowing and holding the rope ladder steady.

Erestor returned the bow partially, and rather stiffly, along with an almost simpering grin. Yes, he definitely hated this living up a tree business. He decided to heavily amend his previous thoughts about Lorien folk. They might not have been Balrog-slayers, a definite point in their favor, but they were by no measure nice, normal folk. Nice, normal folk lived on the _ground_.

After what seemed like a week's worth of climbing the unsteady ladder, Erestor finally pulled himself up through the hole in the floor and onto the brother's talan. The other four popped up quickly one after the other. Now that they were up, Erestor began to think of the one thing he disliked more than climbing up those ladders: getting back down. He began to feel lightheaded just thinking about it.

Obviously Haldir noticed Erestor's abnormally pale complexion and offered him a bit of lembas. Erestor rose a brow, wondering if the bread was not tainted specially for his arrival, and managing to look frighteningly like Elrond (who he wished dearly he had followed just for the sake of being with one person he actually trusted).

Glorfindel took a bit of lembas for himself and shoved the rest into Erestor's hand, who shoved them right back. "Come on, Erestor, where are your legendary manners?" he prodded.

"Oh, fool me, i must have left them with Elrond. I shall just have to go fetch him," Erestor said with mock apology as he started to rise. Rúmil tugged him back to where he was seated beside him though, earning a glare from the Chief Advisor from Imladris.

"Never mind him," Glorfindel said to the three, "he's just grumpy without his precious, mind-numbing reports to read."

Erestor laughed sardonically, reaching into a hidden pocket in his robe. "Did you seriously think i would ever go anywhere unprepared, you halfwit?" he said producing a small book. Erestor turned his chair away from the other four and tried to take comfort in reading, ignoring the several muffled snickers that made their way to his ears.

Every few minutes, specks that looked suspiciously like crumbs of lembas flew over the dark-haired one's head to land sometimes on the book he was reading, sometimes on his lap. Occasionally one didn't make it that far and stayed in his hair. After half an hour of silently putting up with this nonsense, Erestor patiently closed his book and tucked it lovingly back into his pocket. He rose with all of his usually dignity and brushed the crumbs away. He set the chair back as he had found it, bowed to the four leering Elves at the other side of the talan and dropped the ladder down, following it rather precariously. He noticed that it was pulled back up quickly enough after he reached ground.

Erestor walked away hoping to find a quiet place to sit and read without the taunts of others. He was having a difficult time suppressing two very strong urges, both the urge to just once allow himself to respond emotionally to Glorfindel's ludicrous behavior and the urge to kill all four of them. Never would he admit that the truth was that he hated leaving Rivendell because Elves in most other realms were less than friendly to anyone so obviously of Noldor descent. There was little such behavior in Imladris because of Elrond's sound leadership, and for that he was eternally grateful. Here, though, there was only one other fully Noldo Elf in this place that he knew of, and he was not about to keep company with _her_.

---

_Poor 'Restor!_

_Eglerio - Glorify (meant sarcastically in this case)_

_To AM: Oh yes, you will be getting background information. All in good time._


	4. Repression

Later that day.

By the time Erestor found a place quiet enough to read night had fallen, and though all of the tree-city glowed of its own volition, it was not really adequate to read comfortably, not even for an Elf. By this time Erestor was beginning to feel dejected. He wished he really had convinced Elrond to let him stay in Imladris, even with Lindir's singing and Bilbo's smoking. Feeling annoyed was still better than feeling mocked. In frustration Elrond's advisor left Caras Galadon, climbing over the north wall and down into then up out of the Deep Fosse since he had done so much climbing already that day and the bridge was much too close to _her _garden to risk. He thought that maybe the rest of Lorien would be a little more hospitable than the City of Trees.

Wandering northward, Erestor came upon a grove that looked like a miniature version of the grand city, only without the light. He reasoned that he could pass the rest of the week there without being missed much. Here Erestor felt relaxed and walked along looking for a place to rest comfortably until he felt another's presence. Suddenly he was cautious, but he noted that whoever was nearby seemed to take no notice of him at all, which really made Erestor only more curious. He was relieved to find that it was only Arwen who was in the grove with him, but a bit startled to realize that she had not heard him approach, or at least had not acknowledged it in any way.

"Elleth-nín?" Erestor asked quietly, wondering if she was quite well.

Arwen turned then, a reflective smile still about her features. "Erestor," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "This is where Estel and i pledged our eternal love to one another."

Erestor sighed and nodded, feeling a little guilty that he had interrupted her thought. He moved to leave, but she still held on to his hand. The elder Elf could tell that she was drawing support from having a trusted friend nearby, but he tried hard to hide the things he was thinking about, knowing she possessed a bit of her father's abilities and not wanting to spoil her serene mood. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he was not actually doing himself any favors by keeping his thoughts and feelings suppressed, but he chose to smother that thought as well.

"I am very happy for you both, Arwen," Erestor said sincerely, yet more as a way to stop himself thinking about his own situation. "You deserve such a love and you should do all that is in your power to keep that love. Never let anything come between you, elleth-nín." Erestor smiled regretfully and couldn't help but think of the fact that he knew what he was talking about from personal experience. "I believe i shall seek out your father, Arwen. Farewell," he said, using Elrond as an excuse to wander off alone again. Then again, he thought he might just go talk to Elrond after all. He used to share his burdens with his Lord, but of the last several hundred years he felt that he was burdening Elrond too much (certainly the Lord of Imladris had more important matters on his mind) and so took to the old habit of denying that anything troubled him, ever.

But Erestor decided that he did want to speak with Elrond, even if he didn't say anything about his own burdens, he definitely had wanted to discuss the next part of their journey, and perhaps changing the riding formation.

Somewhat hesitantly Erestor sought Celeborn's chamber, knowing he could find Elrond there even late into the night. The two ellyn always had much to discuss when they met. He hated to interrupt them, but Elrond usually welcomed him to such meetings as it was. The few stares he received as he made his up the grand tree to the highest flet only served to exasperate him further. No matter, once he found Elrond he would find out where the other Rivendell Elves were keeping and that would be where he stayed for the rest of the week.

As he approached he could hear Elrond and Celeborn's "conversation" from some distance but as he contemplated letting the Elf-lords argue alone he had already been spotted, no walls separated anything in these flets, anything point Erestor did not care for. Elrond calmed himself enough to beckon Erestor to join them. Celeborn cleared his throat, took a deep, calming breath and bowed to Erestor, welcoming him. Erestor returned the gesture respectfully, if not cautiously.

Celeborn sat down wearily. "Elrond, my apologies, mellon," he said.

"And mine to you, mellon," Elrond replied with a forgiving smile. "I believe that perhaps we are both feeling a little tried of late?"

Celeborn laughed appreciatively. "At least you had not the attacks we had. For how many years have i been saying that it was not wise to remain so close to the eastern threat. At least five centuries ago i was telling my wife that Imladris was located much more securely than Lorien." The blond Elf-lord turned to Erestor, who still looked rather cautious. "Master Erestor, my apologies to you as well, please make yourself comfortable. My flet is your flet."

Erestor realized himself relaxing as he noticed that he could not suppress a wry grin. Celeborn knew how ridiculous Erestor found their living arrangements to be. For a while the three Elves spoke comfortably, all trace of the previous argument vanished. After some while (and some wine) Celeborn decided to take some rest. Elrond agreed that he too needed sleep and invited Erestor to come along as sleeping accommodations had been comfortably prepared for all of the Rivendell host. Erestor was just about overjoyed that they were put up in a lovely, ground level pavilion which had housed the Fellowship of the Ring several months previously.

When Elrond noticed out loud that Glorfindel was not among those from Rivendell at their rest, Erestor pretended that he did not hear Elrond and so did not comment. Just the mention of that imbecile made him see red. Elrond sighed, wondering again if he had not made an error in judgment about this. He decided to leave the issue alone for a while then. Perhaps when they reached Edoras circumstances would be more conducive to Glorfindel and Erestor reconciling their differences.

Erestor was still fighting the urge to give in and once, just once, react emotionally. He utterly refused to allow himself to show any kind of feeling when it came to Glorfindel though, and he decided that he was too stubborn to start.

---

_Thank you, thank you, thank you to all my reviewers! Next chapter will be up before too long too, i hope. I believe that it is going to do with Glorfindel more than Ere'. He does have feelings that need exploring too._


	5. Insight

At the brothers' talan.

Haldir's glower was one that rivaled even Elrond's, though when directed at his brothers its effect was usually rather lessened. Still, even mitigated, Orophin and Rúmil got the gist that their brother was not happy with them. Haldir immediately noticed when Erestor left with such poise that Glorfindel became silent and his expression slightly regretful.

"Excuse us for a moment, Master Glorfindel," Haldir said smoothly, gesturing sharply to his brothers to follow him. He did not bother with the ladder but simply leapt down to the forest floor.

"_What_ were you two Elflings thinking?" Haldir hissed.

"Glorfindel started it!" Orophin protested, trying to keep his voice low.

"That is neither an excuse nor a reason, 'phin," Rúmil said ruefully. "You are correct, Hal', and i, for one, am sorry to Erestor. I did not realize he would take it so personally. You know how it is with us...."

"I know, but Erestor does not know. He likes peace and order and, mostly, decorum. As for Glorfindel, he is a lot more gregarious and he sometimes tries to pull Erestor out of his shell by force. You must understand that this has gone on for centuries between them. Glorfindel plays a fool in hopes that Erestor will catch on, but he never does and it has always ended up the same way, with Erestor walking away feeling hurt and angry and Glorfindel feeling penitent but not doing anything about it."

Up in the large flet Glorfindel sat on the floor, leaning back against a tree branch that the flet was built around. To all appearances, the Balrog-slayer had taken a great interest in studying his own hands. The reaction he got was not the reaction he wanted to get from Erestor, and yet he had to ask himself if he would ever learn.

In battle, there were very few who could match his skills or bravery or tactics. In the company of others, Glorfindel was the life of the party. But with Erestor, he had no idea how to act. He knew too well that deep down, there was merriment in Erestor, and it could be coaxed out, but he just could not stand his repetitiveness.

Why did everything have to be just so? What difference did it really make? Why couldn't Erestor just lighten up? Glorfindel thought he might know the answer to those questions. Erestor had never died. As far as Glorfindel found it, those who do not know death can not know life. As far as Glorfindel found it, Erestor definitely did not know life. Existence, maybe, but not real life.

For the rest of their stay, Glorfindel kept with the Lorien Three and Erestor hardly left Elrond's side. When the Chief Advisor wasn't with his Lord he remained in the pavilion. That was safest. Glorfindel, feeling guilty for his behavior on their first night in, came no where near the pavilion. He was starting to wonder if maybe he should just leave Erestor alone and ignore him as he seemed to with him. Maybe that was Erestor's way of telling him that he was not interested anymore. Glorfindel wondered why that thought made him want to be alone and yet made him want to apologize to Erestor all the more.

Through the week he had chosen to do neither, opting instead to drown his sorrows with the brothers and enjoy himself just to spite Erestor's stubbornness. However, the night before they all departed for Rohan, all three brothers were busy getting ready for the journey and Glorfindel decided to head off for a night's walk in the wood. He was not aware that he was wandering directly into Galadriel's garden.

A voice caused the Balrog-slayer to turn suddenly. "I have been awaiting you, Glorfindel, servant of the Vala Lord Námo." It was a voice filled with much wisdom and age but ageless.

Glorfindel inclined his head in respect. "My lady...," he said softly.

"Your heart weighs heavy, Balrog-slayer, even in these new days," she said and he knew there would be nothing he could hide from her. He could hide nothing from Elrond either, but it was very different not hiding from one's own close friend. "Come with me," she beckoned, sounding numinous.

She led Glorfindel to her enchanted mirror and bid him to look, if he truly wished to. Thinking it could do no harm, Glorfindel accepted the invitation. He was most certainly not prepared for what he saw. First came an image altogether strange to him. Someone who looked very much like Erestor was uncontrolled, nay, hysterically in tears. The sight was so chillingly mournful that Glorfindel started to turn away in disbelief. Erestor did not cry, ever. Glorfindel had come to doubt that he had the ability to feel such sadness, or happiness for that matter.

Just as he was looking away another image caught his eye, this more baffling than upsetting. He and Erestor stood locked in a fight, swords at each other's throats, in someone's study. Was it Erestor's study? No, far too unorganized. This place was lofty, but quite unfamiliar. Strangely enough

Then the strangest image of all appeared before him. There were the two of them, sitting together, smiling and laughing, looking almost... in love? And the really creepy part... Erestor was holding a baby!

Glorfindel looked at Galadriel in pure puzzlement. Her expression was as impassive as Erestor's usually was. How infuriating! "My lady... why was Erestor-"  
  
"There can be no explanation for what is shown in the Mirror. Be careful that you use its information wisely," Galadriel said significantly before she turned and left Glorfindel wondering.

Maybe he would ask Erestor on the road tomorrow, he thought. If that obdurate, rude Noldo didn't completely ignore his presence again. He just couldn't shake those images from his mind. What could have possibly made Erestor so hysterical? How did they come to be literally at each other's throats (that did not have such difficulty imagining, but Erestor doing so well against him was another matter)? And him and Erestor, looking besotted, holding a baby?

That last thought almost made him violently ill.

---

_Those who have read Chaos Theory probably know what is up with the baby, or then again... do you? _

_Haldir's Heart & Soul: Erestor? Throw caution to the wind? That'll be the day!_

_In answer to uial and Eirias: I try to update every day or two days. Pretty regularly in any event._

_Thanks to all reviewers! You have made me so happy!_


	6. Edoras

On the road to Edoras, via Fangorn, fifth day out.

"Erestor?" It was the first time Glorfindel had dared to even attempt to speak to the dark-haired one who rode beside him. Elrond had insisted vehemently that the riding formation remain as it was, saying that he needed his two dearest friends as close at hand as possible.

In return, Glorfindel received exactly what he expected: silence. Erestor, sitting tall and straight as usual, made utterly no sign that he acknowledged that there was anyone at all on the rode other than himself.

"Erestor, come, i am only trying to be friendly...." Glorfindel said pleadingly.

At the suppliant tone in the Balrog-slayer's voice, Erestor could not suppress that aura of self-satisfaction about himself. However, silence reigned.

"ERESTOR!" Glorfindel shouted, thoroughly infuriated with Erestor's disregard for his petitions.

Still the composed, dark-haired Elf did not acknowledge him at all. The rest of the group, however, certainly did, including those from Lorien, with the exception of Haldir. Even Elrond gave him a watered-down version of "the look." It was enough to make Glorfindel quiet, with a slightly awkward, mortified grin. His grin quickly gave way, though, to a scowl. Damned Erestor! That would be the last time he tried to be friendly on his account, that was certain.

Fortunately there were no further incidents for the next two weeks of the trip. When the hosts of Imladris and Lothlorien broke for camp each night, Glorfindel wisely made his way to the Lorien side of the camp where he slept among his friends there. Most nights, though he was glad to retire with the brothers as he had before they departed, he found himself unbelievably angry that he was the one who had to distance himself from Erestor, even though he did so without anyone mentioning that he should. In his opinion, it was all Erestor's fault for being so uptight anyway.

Still, there were also those very annoying nights when he felt a strange feeling deep in his heart made him feel terribly about distancing himself from Erestor when he should have just apologized. And yet even that angered him when he thought that had he attempted to apologize Erestor would probably pretend to be the only Elf without the legendary Elven hearing, as always. Perhaps Galadriel's Enchanted Mirror was failing. There was no way possible those two could ever sit together and smile about anything. And he still felt rather ill when he remembered that the dark-haired one was holding a infant.

And yet every day they rode side-by-side in silence, at least between one another. Finally came the morning that two riders, identical riders, were seen approaching as the Elves broke camp. Immediately they went to Elrond, who held them tightly and was hard pressed to stifle a tear when he said, "Thank the Valar you are both safe," as he did every time he saw his sons after a long absence. True, they were always off doing dangerous patrols with the Dunedan in the North, but never had Elrond worried about them so much as during this war.

The brothers received no less a welcome from their little sister, who allowed herself several tears every time her brothers came home from long patrols. Together, the family rode into Edoras and were greeted by the King of Rohan, as were the Lord and Lady of Lorien, the three brothers, and Glorfindel and Erestor.

Within Meduseld, Erestor looked around the vast hall. Pulling either Elladan or Elrohir aside he asked, "Where exactly is Lord Éomer's palace and why are we asked to wait in this stable?"

The twins broke out in laughter, drawing almost as many stares as Glorfindel's outburst two weeks ago had. "Erestor, meldir... this _is_ his palace!" said a twin, calming his laughter and speaking in a low voice.

"Ai... here i had thought that Mornië would finally have some decent accommodations. Glorfindel as well," Erestor said wryly.

Both twins nodded and went looking again for their father. After some conversation in the rather small room the three of them were afforded, Elladan asked what had been on their minds since they met the host out on the field. "Has there been any luck with Glor' and Ere' yet, _adar_?"

Elrond rolled his eyes, sitting at the end of his bed. He shook his head wearily. "Those two do not stand a Hobbit's chance in Mordor."

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at one another, grinning. "So there is still a chance," Elrohir said.

"Aye, a chance, _ion-nín_, but Frodo and Samwise are loyal companions and do not shout at one another over nothing whatsoever. They are driving me slowly mad, those two, and if they do not learn to see passed one another's peculiarities i may have to revert to my idea of locking them up together for a night. Glorfindel and Erestor are still love each other, and you did not hear this from me, but some of the things they think about might haunt me even into Valinor," Elrond said with a shudder.

"That should teach you to go about reading people's thoughts, adar," Elrohir said almost smugly, though he himself did not know whether it was comical or disgusting.

"Well, what am i do? They will not even talk civilly to one another anymore!" Elrond sounded wearier and wearier.

"Have you divined their futures at all yet?" Elladan asked.

"Yes, several times," Elrond said dismissively. "All i get is a hazy picture of them both sailing West, which means nothing at all for my mental health. I have been hoping so that they will come to accept one another on this journey. I had hoped our stay in Edoras would serve that purpose, but since we must depart the morn after next, i have my doubts."

Elladan and Elrohir smiled to one another. "Aye, adar," Elladan said, "but now you have our aid as well!"

"I think you should make a change to the formation, adar...," Elrohir said conspirator-like. "Allow us to be the van, and the good Masters Glorfindel and Erestor should ride directly behind us."


	7. Much Ado

Firien Wood.

On the final stage of the ride to Gondor, the riding formation was indeed amended. Elladan and Elrohir rode at the fore as twin vanguards. Following them were a silent Glorfindel and Erestor, both highly annoyed that formation had changed and yet they were stuck together. Next came the Rivendell Elves, the Lord and Lady of Lorien and their people, and Elrond and Arwen last.

Having questioned Elrond numerous as to precisely why he and Glorfindel were required to ride side by side, the Elf-lord often told his advisor that he needed them both nearby at all times and gave him some manner of rhetoric about having two right hands. Erestor now questioned again, since obviously Elrond did not need them at hand any longer, and Elrond's excuse was that they were needed to act as representatives with his sons. Erestor was starting to wonder just what Elrond was up to.

One night as they camped at the further edge of the Firien Wood, not far from the beacon of Halifirien, Haldir and his brothers volunteered to go collect firewood for the camp after they watched Glorfindel walk off into the woods, presumably to escape Erestor. Haldir, furitvely threw a wink toward toward the twins back in their camp as they entered the woods.

The Lorien Three conversed normally while picking up kindling here and there until Rúmil's Elven eyes spotted Glorfindel through a thicket. Their conversation then turned abruptly.

"What, my brother," Rúmil began to say to Haldir, his voice needlessly almost raised, "had you started to tell me this morning of Master Erestor?"

Glorfindel obviously could not help overhearing this and his head turned involuntarily, listening closer.

"Ah! I had forgotten to finish that!" Haldir said, catching Rúmil's clue. "Where did i leave off?"

"You were telling us that he was quite in love, but you did not say with whom," Orophin chimed in.

Haldir grinned from ear to ear, hoping their ruse worked. "Why! None other than the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Glorfindel himself," Haldir declared.

"It can not be, brother!" Rúmil exclaimed.

"Ai, it be, brother," Haldir said seriously.

"So strange," Orophin said, sounding contemplative, "that he should love him so, yet at every opportunity he rebukes him."

"I do agree!" Haldir said. "I, myself, have no ability to grasp the thought of it, but as i swear on the light of Earendil, it is truth."

"One would have reason to think that Erestor was beyond the range of such affection!" Rúmil said, still managing to sound shocked.

Haldir was having difficulty concealing his laughter, but he managed. "Aye, but Lord Elrond has told me how his counselor keeps awake long into the night, writing there in his study chamber, writing words of passion to leave for Glorfindel. Then he throws the parchment on the fire, vowing that never would he admit such things to the seneschal of Imladris."

The Three finished with their gossip, sufficiently satisfied that Glorfindel had overheard plenty, and headed back to the camp with more firewood than was necessary.

---

Catching Haldir's wink, Elladan leaned forward toward his father and brother and spoke in a hushed voice, but clearly enough for Erestor to overhear as he sat against the bole of a tree reading. "Adar, what is it i hear about Lord Glorfindel finding a love?"

"So it seems, ion-nín," Elrond said, fighting the smile from his features.

"Well, who is the lucky Elf? Anyone we know?" Elrohir asked curiously.

"Aye," Elrond said patiently, noting out of the corner of his eye than Erestor, though still staring at the page before him, was obviously no longer reading.

"Adar! Who?" Elladan insisted impatiently.

"_Sidh_, ion-nín," Elrond said, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. "It is one in this very camp. Indeed, one quite close."  
  
"Ah, and you can not say so plainly?" Elrohir said, as if understanding.

Elrond nodded. "I fear to say, more for Glorfindel's sake than any. He is madly in love, aye, and has begged me several times that i might... put in a good word, as old Bilbo often likes to say. But i have counseled Glorfindel that it would be wiser of him to let this certain Elf know his heart with his own words. Yet, you know well how stubborn Glorfindel is. He refuses and in fact has yet to drop his ludicrous teasing games with... said certain Elf. The trouble is, i believe that Glorfindel's hesitancy to admit his feelings is simply that he fears to have them flouted."

"Adar..." Elladan said, feigning to catch on, "do you refer to Lord Eres-"

"_Dinen_, Elladan!" Elrond cautioned.

"Ah! So it is!" the twins said in unison.

"But why does he refuse him so? How many Elves would give their ear-points for just a smile from Glorfindel, the famed hero of Gondolin?" Elrohir asked.

"Erestor is not an open book, none can speak for his motives. He is a good advisor to me, and just as surely is Glorfindel a good seneschal. They are both wise and i trust them both immensely. They would truly be a perfect match, if only Erestor would see it!" Elrond lamented.

"There is nary a prouder Elf in all of Arda than your advisor, adar. And yet i should think that even he would see Glorfindel's nobility and bravery, without mention of his carved warrior features. How can he not?" Elladan questioned.

"Ai, brother," Elrohir said, "i think that Erestor's sharp-wit precludes him from coming so near a quality of love such as Glorfindel might have to offer. It is a tragedy that his wisdom turns to scorn because it is so great and so rarely matched. What a pity he should be so cold!"

Elrond shook his head, looking melodramatic. "Come, my sons, let us not think on such sad matters. Those two shall just go on as ever, unless i miss my guess. Let us see to supper, shall we not?"

The next day on the ride Glorfindel and Erestor kept sneaking odd glances at each other, whilst the twins kept sneaking smirks at each other.

---

_Sidh - Peace_

_Dinen - Quiet_

_My thanks to Haldir's Heart & Soul for providing the inspiration for this chapter. There i was wondering what in all of Arda our twins were going to come up with, i read your review, and it hit me! The Much Ado About Nothing technique. Once again, Billy Wigglestick influences my fics._


	8. Age Old Hurt

__

Grey Wood.

For the rest of the ride to Minas Tirith Glorfindel and Erestor were silent as ever, only now their silence was no longer uncomfortable, but contemplative. Both Elves seemed quite lost in thought. Several times others noticed Erestor looking sideways at Glorfindel as the Balrog-slayer slept at night. Often was Glorfindel seen outright staring at Erestor as the Chief Advisor read peacefully. Everyone was highly impressed with what the twins had conjured up, for once they had managed to come up with something which would serve a good purpose. Now it was just a matter of waiting until their work came to fruition.

The last camp before they reached Minas Tirith the next evening was made in Grey Wood. That night Glorfindel offered to join the watch, the Elves being still somewhat cautious so close to Mordor. The seneschal strolled along away from the camp while most of the other Elves walked only the paths of the dreams gifted to them by Lórien.

Erestor, however, did not sleep. His thoughts kept him from any restful sleep. Could it have been true what Elrond and the twins said back in Halifirien? Could Glorfindel really love him, but be afraid to say so for fear of being outwitted?

Glorfindel. There was a name that conjured up in the dark-haired Elf a maelstrom of emotions that was unreal. And a host of memories as well. Things that Erestor had never shared with another living soul.

How many years had it been? It was ages since Gondolin and the Balrog fell, taking Glorfindel with them. Most of those who had escaped, Erestor himself included, fled to Arvernien and then to the Isle of Balar. Erestor had not always been the strictly regimented, sharp-tongued Elf that he was famous for being, and in Gondolin he was known (by those who knew him at all) as a quiet, bookish Elf who's way with words was unmatched. But Erestor was never exactly considered well-organized, some even went so far as to refer to him as a lazy Elfling.

Nor was Erestor what one might call a "social butterfly." Some of the elleth variety had taken note of him, charmed by his relaxed but shy ways, but he ignored them, much to their dismay. There was, however, one who had caught Erestor's eye and more. A tall, blond, statuesque warrior who was Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. For years, Erestor did what he could to be in the presence of said Lord, hoping that Glorfindel would take interest in him on his own. Nothing ever happened though, other than the few glances he received from the noble Vanya. Still, as time went on, Erestor's heart told him more and more insistently that Glorfindel was most certainly _the one._

One evening a grand festival had been held in Gondolin and it was that night that Erestor decided that it had been long enough. He had to at least try to tell Glorfindel all that beset his heart in the warrior's name. It took every bit of the Noldo's courage to walk up to Glorfindel as guests mingled about the King's grand halls. "Lord Glorfindel," Erestor said bowing respectfully, "might i have a moment of your time?" he managed to ask debonairly.

"Certainly, good -" Glorfindel paused, trying to think of what he had heard the dark-haired Elf called, but never had a chance to recall it as suddenly an attack was raised against the Hidden City. Survivors fled Gondolin and warriors continued to fight to clear their way along the narrow pass at Cirith Thoronath. It was there that the Balrog met Glorfindel who valiantly battled the beast, and it was also there that Erestor watched helplessly as Glorfindel was taken down into the rocky abyss with the demon.

It was years later when Eärendil came into his own that Erestor was brought on as his advisor and they quickly became dear friends, as often do those who have shared common struggles. Erestor confided in Eärendil, as he later would Elrond, that he had lost someone very dear at Gondolin, and there were many times that Eärendil and his son had both comforted Erestor in his hysterics. In the years after Glorfindel's death and, subsequently, Erestor's advisory appointment, that he began to take life more seriously. No longer a poetic, "lazy" Elf, Erestor sought to bury his love for Glorfindel and pain at losing him under a mask of efficiency. Before long, it became a lifestyle for him.

When Eärendil sailed West and won the breaking of the curse of the Noldor, Erestor was taken on by Gil-Galad and became famous for his competency. After the Last Alliance, from which Ereinion Gil-Galad did not return, Erestor was hesitant to follow the son of Eärendil to the settlement he had established in the valley of the Bruinen, feeling that all whom he loved and served were cursed by his loyalty, the one Noldo who was not granted a reprieve from Mandos' doom.

Elrond practically dragged him along from Lindon though, as Erestor was to Elrond one of the last real links he had to his father. It was there in Rivendell that the Valar took pity on one lonely Elf, and when one day a Lord Glorfindel came to Imladris, looking as perfect as he always had in Tumladen. Suddenly, Erestor had been given a second chance, but something was different this time and Glorfindel seemed more unapproachable than ever before. A light of Valinor shone about him, stronger than the natural light of the Eldar.

This time, Erestor refused to allow his emotions to run away with him again. He was not the same Elf he was all those years ago and he would not succumb to such foolishness. When Elrond asked Glorfindel to become his second-in-command, Erestor only acted colder to the blond Elf. Damn it, he would _not_ trifle with love again, no matter what kind of defenses it took. When Glorfindel had first noticed Erestor, some several months after arriving in Imladris, he was convinced he knew him from somewhere, but Erestor flatly denied it, insisting that there were many Noldor at Gondolin and surely it was another he remembered. Erestor also refused to allow himself to get close to Glorfindel because he feared that he would fall prey to the curse Erestor still believed he carried, though that may have been Erestor's excuse to himself for just not wanting to get hurt so deeply again.


	9. Drawn In

Minas Tirith.

As evening drew on, Aragorn and Faramir stood in the courtyard watching the Elven host crossing the Pelennor toward the North Gate. The first thought that crossed Aragorn's mind was, "How did they get Glorfindel and Erestor to ride side-by-side at the van?" Elrond and Arwen were rather wondering the same thing from the other end of the march.

That morning the two seemingly-opposite Elves were showing their differences again. After Glorfindel's night on patrol, and subsequent bout of intense thinking, the Balrog-slayer spent the best part of the morning trying to get the dark-haired advisor to talk with him. For the most part, Erestor stayed with his old "ignore and it will go away" tactic. But just as they were moving into their formation, Erestor decided he was going to have to make himself a little more comprehensible to the thick-skulled Vanya.

Deciding not to make Glorfindel's dim-witted mistake of shouting and drawing the attention of every Elf in the vicinity (battle-warriors know nothing of subtly), Erestor's sharp, low tone was all it took to silence Glorfindel for the rest of the day when Erestor told him that he "would not hesitate to make Lord Námo take the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower back... permanently," if he dared to so much as look upon him without express consent again.

As they approached Minas Tirith, Erestor started to feel intensely guilty about his strong words earlier. He wondered why exactly he reverted to such sharpness with Glorfindel. He wondered why he refused to even talk to him, surely other Elves he had talked to had not met their doom. But Glorfindel had once already, and even if Erestor had to fool the Valar themselves, he was not going to show the slightest sign of the feelings he encountered whenever he looked at the tall, blond, carved, perfectly.... Erestor shook himself back to thinking about political matters at once.

Glorfindel was doing all he could to keep his eyes trained on the back of Elrohir's (or Elladan's) head. He really had no fear of Erestor actually following through on his threat, nor did he feel entirely offended by it after having heard what Haldir and his brother's discussed that night in the wood. Glorfindel, really, was more confused than anything. Why did Erestor act so, after all? Especially if he was in love, as Haldir seemed to believe, Glorfindel wondered if it wasn't something he had done that had made the dark-haired Elf so cold. Glorfindel felt guilty that, had he offended Erestor somehow, it must be terrible for him to love him and yet be so upset with him. Yet, Glorfindel thought of all the times he had tried to be friendly with Erestor, all to no avail. The only way it could be described was infuriating. Erestor had really brought it all on himself anyway. He had but to tell Glorfindel what grieved him, then at least he might have a chance to make amends. It seemed like Erestor actually wanted to keep the animosity between them. 'Very well, then,' Glorfindel thought with a half scowl, half sneer.

Fortunately just then Aragorn came out from the city gates to welcome them. All were whisked quickly up through the city and taken to the Citadel where a feast had been laid. Seated at Aragorn's left were Arwen, Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir (or vice versa), Glorfindel, Erestor, Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, and the Lord and Lady of Lorien. All through the feast Glorfindel over heard a conversation between the twins that sounded very much like the one he overheard from the three Silvan brothers. Likewise, Erestor was treated to a similar Lorien Three version of the chat the Peredhil family had around the fire one evening.

If Glorfindel had doubts that perhaps Erestor did indeed love him, the twins discussion did much to relieve those misgivings, though he began to wonder of the two had not been spending too much time around Mortal ears. How could he not have heard them? When Elladan mentioned to Elrohir (or was it the other way round?) that the reason Erestor was always so cold with Glorfindel was because he was afraid to show his feelings to the Balrog-slayer, Glorfindel turned to stare at Erestor.

In that moment of distraction the twins wore matching grins of unparalleled mischief that did not go unnoticed by their mortal brother and host. Aragorn had a feeling he knew exactly what those two were up to and he made it a point to focus in on the conversation Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin were holding to see if his suspicion was correct. What the King heard was proof enough for him.

Erestor nearly groaned when he heard the Three mention the name of Glorfindel. But his interest was peaked when Rúmil said something about Glorfindel being afraid to profess his affection for the Noldo advisor because he was sure that the feeling was not mutual, after all, considering the way Erestor always reacted to him.... Erestor could not help but feel rather indignant. So not only his dearest friend and his sons thought he was cold and rude, but so did the Lorien Three and Glorfindel himself. He wondered just who else held this opinion of him, without mention of the fact that those damned Silvans obviously thought that the Noldor had less than sharp hearing. Not only that, but Erestor's sense of guilt returned in full force. It must have been terrible for Glorfindel, if he really did love him as everyone seemed to think, to be ignored by the one you love.

Though Galadriel fully disapproved of getting so noticeably involved, Celeborn could not help also overhearing the conversations of the Rivendell twins and their own three wardens. Catching Aragorn's gaze, Celeborn silently intimated that perhaps they could assist this little set-up in some way. Aragorn nodded, tapped his father's shoulder and whispered his plan. Elrond made a point of showing utterly no interest whatsoever when he leaned forward to catch Erestor's attention.

Erestor, thankful for a distraction from his guilt-ridden thoughts, went quickly over to Elrond. "I must slip away from the feast in a moment, _mellon-nín_," Elrond whispered, "but i shall not have time to find my quarters, and after the last few weeks i truly do not wish to be bothered with making sure that everything is in order before i fall asleep. You would not mind seeing to everything for me, would you, _meldur_?"

Erestor smiled, thankful to be able to get away from the crowd. "I would be most happy to take care of everything for you, _meldur-nín_. Should i have a bath drawn for you?"

"That would be appreciated, Erestor. _Hannon-le_," Elrond said before rising and slipping away to wait for Aragorn in his chambers. Erestor was directed to Elrond's chambers by the King before he too stole away after his father.

Just as Erestor was leaving to see to Elrond's wishes, Celeborn pulled him aside to ask him where he might find Elrond later that evening as the Elf-lords had much yet to be discussed. Erestor gave him the directions he was given by Aragorn and was quickly gone. Several moments later Celeborn beckoned Glorfindel over to his end of the table. He did everything in his power to avoid the gaze of Galadriel though, trying to forget the things he saw in her mirror. Celeborn asked Glorfindel if he would mind terribly going to his chamber to fetch a small gift he had brought to give to his granddaughter. Having recieved Celeborn's "directions," Glorfindel nodded, bowed, and hurried off. When he was well away Celeborn explained to the twins, who were duly impressed and were finally beginning to understand the question which plagued the Elven population of Middle-earth since they were born: "Where did they get it from?"

---

_We all know these translations by now right?_

_Mellon-nin - my friend_

_meldur - dear friend_

_meldur-nin - dear friend of mine (or my dear friend, i just think the other way is more poetic)_

_hannon-le - thank you_

_My readers have my apologies for the week-long halt in updates. Last weekend i went away, had the best time of my life, and when i came back... i couldn't write (or do much else, truthfully). I left all my creativity and spirit there. I knew well enough not to push the next chapter and just let it come in it's own time. Hopefully i am back into the swing of it again._

_I wonder where Aragorn's directions are going to send our two favorite Elves...._


	10. Set Up

The Citadel

When Arwen noticed how pleased her two brothers were with themselves, she was hard-pressed to keep from slapping them. She was rather disappointed in her grandfather as well. She could not believe that they would do such a thing to Erestor. "You do not know how much Erestor already hurts," she admonished them. "If he ends up hurt more by your joke the blame shall rest solely with you!" Galadriel agreed with her completely, pointing out that her method of helping them was not only much subtler, but also much kinder to Erestor.

The further Erestor went along the corridor in the King's House the more he wondered why Aragorn would have Elrond housed so far out of the way. He considered that it could have something to do with what had gone on pre- and post-Council last October, Elrond barely speaking two sentences to his foster son the entire time he was there, but he seriously doubted that Aragorn would be one to retaliate. He vaguely wondered if this wasn't a joke like what he had endured from the Lorien Three while at their talan, but he also rejected the thought that Aragorn would behave in such a way. Surely he had only taken a wrong turn, though he felt sure he had followed the directions exactly. Erestor prided himself on, among other things, his sense of direction. Perhaps Aragorn, being new to the Citadel himself, had made an error.

Just as he was turning back to check with someone where Master Elrond's accommodations should be, he saw a whitish light coming around the corner. The dark-haired Elf froze for a split second before turning, trying to find another exit, but this hallway came to a dead end. Erestor sighed and turned stoically to face Glorfindel, hoping the Vanya would say nothing and let him pass without a scene.

Glorfindel almost cracked a smile when he saw none other than Erestor standing there in the hallway. It would figure, he thought, that they, of all, would both be asked to go to the same hallway at the same time. But then, he guessed it made sense that Elrond and Celeborn should be put up near each other. "Good evening, Erestor," Glorfindel said impersonally.

Erestor merely nodded.

"Well, you will pardon me if i do not stay and converse... Lord Celeborn asked me to fetch an item for him. I would hate to keep him waiting," Glorfindel said with an annoying grin.

Erestor still said nothing. Quickly he reached for the nearest door to disappear through, which happened to be the one Aragorn had directed him to.

"Why thank you, old friend," Glorfindel said grinning, thinking Erestor was holding the door for him.

"_What_ are you thanking me for, Glorfindel?" Erestor said with unconcealed aggravation. If there was anything he hated it was a simpering attitude. And Glorfindel.

"For directing me to Lord Celeborn's chamber, of course," Glorfindel replied, actually sounding rather innocent this time.

"This is _not_ Lord Celeborn's chamber," Erestor said vehemently, entering and closing the door behind himself quickly. He wished he could have simply ignored Glorfindel's knock, but he realized that he had not a candle and the room was completely dark, having neglected to take a torch before so hastily shutting the Balrog-slayer out. "What?" Erestor asked shortly, flinging the door open and taking the nearest torch out of the hallway.

Glorfindel winced at Erestor's tone and decided to tread lightly. "This is indeed Celeborn's chamber, my good Erestor, according to the directions said Elf-lord gave to me."

"This is Elrond's chamber, according to the directions Estel gave me," Erestor snarled, sounding rather un-Elf-like. Looking around the chamber, having lit the candles with the torch, Erestor only looked much, much further infuriated. For one thing, the rooms had no windows to speak of. For another, neither Lord Celeborn's nor Elrond's belongings were in the room.

Glorfindel noticed this as well. "Why," he said slowly, "do the effects here all seem to be of Dwarven-craft?"

"You half-wit!" Erestor quite nearly shouted. "They set us up. Do you not see that? They are all in on it." Erestor was feeling many things, but chiefly among them was a strong sense of betrayal by some of the only people in all of Middle-earth he really ever trusted. Erestor felt so furious with the whole situation.

Glorfindel, however, was not entirely convinced. "Who in all of Middle-earth would ever try to set us up? Well... yes, the twins would, and have, but they are grown now, no longer Elflings. Come, surely this is no more than a simple mistake," Glorfindel said coaxingly, hoping Erestor would calm down a little.

"No, Glorfindel. It is not a mistake at all. They knew they were sending us off for nothing. They sent us to the same place at the same time where no one else would be. Have you not heard the twins and the Lorien Three talking? Even Elrond is in on this, and that shocks me. I thought i could trust him." Erestor fell quite while Glorfindel contemplated.

"I suppose it does rather seem to be on purpose, does it not?" the Balrog-slayer said after a moment. "But after all, what harm comes of it? It is nothing more than a joke in the end, there is no reason you should not trust Elrond."

Erestor stared at Glorfindel, anger and pain flashing in his dark eyes. "What harm?! The harm that my dearest friend does not take seriously that which i have confided in him." Erestor was sounding as Glorfindel, and indeed many, had never heard him before. Stressed was a common emotion for the Noldo Elf, but this went beyond stress. Erestor was simply upset.

"Erestor! Wait!" Glorfindel called, but he was already hurrying away down the hall and disappearing around the corner, pretending not to hear. Glorfindel was left wondering exactly why Erestor was so upset. He never had been amused by any of the twins jokes, sure, but he had never gotten so worked up over such a simple prank. And what did Erestor mean about Elrond not taking seriously something that he had confided? Certainly that couldn't have had something to do with this rumor that Erestor loved Glorfindel. For a moment Glorfindel thought on that possibility and thought it rather made sense. Glorfindel made up his mind to let it go for the next couple days, enough to allow Erestor to forget the matter, but to bring it up to him as soon as he had the chance.

---

_Poor Erestor. Let's just hope that Glor' gets it through his head (and heart) how he has to handle Ere'. As for the conspirators...._

_Haldir's Heart & Soul: I meant to respond to your question a while ago, but when i post sometimes i am in a hurry. Anyway, the thing about the curse. If you are refering to the Curse of the Noldor that Earendil won the breaking of... that's a long story, one i will have to email probably. It has to do with Feanor's oath to recover the Silmarils and Mandos' Doom and stuff like that. As for Erestor, he feels cursed because 1) he loved Glorfindel and Glor' died. 2) he was a dear friend to Earendil and he ended up sailing his sail through the heavens for all eternity. 3) he served Gil-Galad and he died. 4) he served Elrond and the twins were born (ok, so that's not really considered part of it). That's how Ere' sees it in this fic anyway, and part of the reason he doesn't want to get close to Glor' again._


	11. To Remain

Two weeks after the wedding of Elessar and Arwen.

While Erestor had been just as gracious and dignified as ever throughout the wedding feast, at all other times he avoided any contact whatsoever with the Elves he considered traitors. He preferred instead to put himself to some use in assisting Faramir with the office of the Steward. The Noldo had taken an immediately liking to the young Steward, he was quite wise for someone so very young, something Erestor identified with, and pitied. For he knew that such early wisdom can only come through great sadness.

Glorfindel had been very close to going to find Erestor just two days after the wedding, but every time he thought about crossing the corridor to Erestor's chamber, he thought again that perhaps Erestor was not yet in the mood to talk to anyone. When Glorfindel had word that riders from Rohan were approaching, he found himself growing a little desperate. He knew he would need to have a word with Erestor before they set off again on the road. As much as he knew Erestor hated traveling, he knew that traveling together to go back to Edoras for Kind Theoden's funeral was going to make Erestor very unhappy. He could not understand why he hesitated so to speak with the dark-haired one. Every time he went to see him, he made up some excuse to himself why he should not, as though he was nervous to see him or something. Moreover, every night he lay awake wishing more and more that he had not put it off. Glorfindel began to wonder if he did not actually have... feelings for Erestor. The way his dark hair cascaded neatly down his slender back, the way his dark tailored robes fit so closely about his perfectly postured upper body.

The day that the host of Rohirrim arrived with their king Glorfindel decided to be courageous and seek out Erestor once and for all. He was startled to find the dark-haired one only just around the corner looking out a window in the hallway. Glorfindel swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored the flustered voice in the back of his mind that screamed that this was not a good time, as it had every other time.

"Erestor? May we talk?" he said, hoping he did not sound as nervous as he felt.

Erestor turned, jaw set and staring. "What have we to discuss?" he said coldly. He regretted watching the Rohirrim arrive from such a public place.

"My behavior of late, for one," Glorfindel said humbly. As he spoke he did not meet Erestor's stare, but was just realizing how full his lips were and how inviting they looked in that half-sulk, half-glower. Glorfindel's eyes dropped lower to Erestor's hands, barely noticing that his arms were crossed in annoyance. They were the hands of a scribe, thin and soft and smooth, in contrast to his own warrior's hands. Glorfindel shook himself, looking back up to meet Erestor's stare which now held a tinge of confusion. Glorfindel grinned childishly and asked if Erestor would talk with him.

Erestor felt wary but accepted, reasoning he could go through little more pain than his best friend betraying him. Upon entering Erestor seated himself in the chair closest to the door, refusing to venture very far into Glorfindel's apartments. A drink was offered, but Erestor categorically refused. If Glorfindel wanted to talk, fine, he would talk. But he would concede nothing else.

Glorfindel smirked nervously, belting back a glass of miruvor before taking a deep breath. 'Best to just be out with it,' he thought. "Erestor, i... i apologize for my... foolish behavior. I am sincerely sorry if any of my actions have caused you undue stress." Glorfindel hoped that sounded as heartfelt as he liked to think he meant it to be.

Erestor looked rather stunned by Glorfindel's apology, having never heard such a thing before. His first thought was that perhaps this was all another joke, but the more he read into it, the more it seemed to be a real, honest apology. Then it hit him. The Balrog-slayer wanted something. Obviously, why else would he be polite to him? Erestor stood and stared at Glorfindel in weary exasperation. "What favor do you seek?" he asked, sounding tired.

Glorfindel looked confused until he realized that Erestor did not buy his contrition. "No, Erestor, i seek nothing but your forgiveness. That was no ploy. Truly." Glorfindel felt rather downhearted to see that Erestor still did not believe him. Now he looked at himself a little differently. Was he really so insincere that his apologies were worthless? Surely not, but Erestor seemed to think so. At the moment, Glorfindel really was feeling sorry for the way he had treated Erestor. He certainly had never realized that such behavior as his might have an impact on what other's thought about him. It had never been a problem in Gondolin, nor in Imladris with anyone else.

Erestor moved to leave, sick with himself that he ever accepted Glorfindel's invitation. As he went walking in search Minas Tirith's library (which, though grand indeed, did not hold a candle to the information Imladris contained) he wondered just what favor Glor' had been after. Unintentionally he could overhear Elrond and Arwen speaking when he passed by a parlor not far from the King's study. Arwen sounded rather angry with her father for his part in setting Erestor and Glorfindel up the night before her wedding. Apparently, the twins had already had the same lecture from her. Elrond, for his part, did sound genuinely sorry but he was adamant that his intentions were only to get the two of them together. Though he told Arwen that he did regret the method and the fact that Erestor had refused to see and speak to anyone involved since.

Erestor was unsure of how to handle Elrond's roundabout apology (knowing Elrond, the Elf-lord was probably fully aware that Erestor had been in the hallway and overheard), but he decided that it was better than Glorfindel's at any rate, though they would have to discuss it later when he was in a better mood for such things. Erestor knew that on the morrow practically the entire guest population of the Citadel, excepting Faramir, would be leaving for the funeral march of Theoden. Erestor had been contemplating staying in the city to assist the young Steward, since he did not appreciate the idea of going back to Edoras any time soon, nor the idea of riding anywhere in the vicinity of Glorfindel. After spending an hour's time in the nice, quiet library he had made up his mind. He would indeed be staying.

That night Glorfindel had the worst sleep he could remember not getting. Always at night was the guilty feeling at its worst. When he finally did get to sleep he slept deeply and when he woke, Anor had clearly been up for some time. He rushed to get dressed, hoping that Elrond would not decide to not waste a funeral march and add one of his own. The Balrog-slayer rushed with all speed toward the grand gate of the Citadel, nearly knocking over several servants and guards of the city. When he rounded a corner and collided with a walking shadow, Glorfindel had a feeling that his day was simply not going to get better. Sighing, Glorfindel picked himself up and offered Erestor a hand as well. "My apologies, Erestor, i was in a rush to get to.... What are you doing looking like that? Surely Elrond is waiting for us and you do not look at all ready to ride!"

Erestor clenched his teeth. He really wished that he and Glorfindel had not some mysterious way gotten back onto very rare speaking terms. "I am not riding. I have decided to remain here. It will be some time before any of them make a journey back to Imladris and i shall wait until such a time to join them," he told Glorfindel as calmly as possible.

Glorfindel looked strangely intrigued. "Not going? I had not thought of that...," he mused aloud, drawing a sarcastic "no!" from Erestor. "Well enough, then. I shall remain in Minas Tirith as well. Excellent idea, Erestor," Glorfindel said, ignoring the dark-haired Elf's cynical wit and brushing passed him at a much more dignified pace to find Elrond and let him know of his decision.

Erestor stared after him in rage. How dare he steal his idea?! Minas Tirith would have been so calm and peaceful without him! Erestor took a deep breath and repressed all of his anger. After all, the city was quite big enough for two Elves. Maybe they would never even see or hear one another the entire time. Erestor turned quickly, black robes billowing characteristically, and he also went to inform Elrond of his decision to stay in the White City for a time.


	12. As Usual

Citadel courtyard.

Erestor ran to catch up to his adversary at the gate between the 6th and 7th levels of Minas Tirith where the riders were assembled. Rushing up alongside Glorfindel, Erestor saw rather plainly the look of lack of expectation Elrond wore. Erestor supposed he already knew what was going on. After all, he wasn't Lord Elrond Peredhil for nothing. Erestor also saw there that he was sorry that his Chief Advisor and friend would be remaining (though Erestor had yet to say so).

"You do know we are riding... now?" Elrond more stated than asked the two of them. He had no need to, seeing as Erestor was garbed in his ever-present black robes, terrifically impractical for travel, and Glorfindel was hastily clad in a leggings and a red tunic, certainly not what one would wear for a funeral march.

"We know, mellon," was Glorfindel's nonchalant reply. "However, we have decided to stay here a while longer."

So that confirmed it. It was unfortunate, Elrond thought, that he would not have his two best friends with him on this journey, but... perhaps this was exactly what those two needed. Suddenly something dawned on Elrond. "_We_ have decided to stay...," Glorfindel had said. Did that mean they agreed? Elrond looked closer at Glorfindel, noting again the fact that he was hastily dressed, and wondering if it was remotely possible....

Erestor cut in to Elrond's stunned thoughts, drawing the Elf-lord gladly away from the almost disturbing mental image. "After all, Elladan and Elrohir will be along to help you in whatever advice you may need," Erestor said to Elrond, with not a little emphasis on the twin's names, making direct eye contact with all three of them.

A shot of panic ran through the younger two, wondering if Erestor was capable of revenge and hoping that they had not inadvertently given him any ideas. Elrond stifled a guilty grin. Maybe it would really work after al1... that was if Ere' and Glor' didn't kill each other first. Elrond felt obliged to warn Faramir as to what he might be up against, but there seemed to be no time. Sighing, the Elf-lord contented himself with the knowledge that Faramir was a strong man and had surely dealt with dangers worse than two feuding, in-love Elves.

Aragorn noted the worried look on his father's face as they rode solemnly out of the city. Drawing up beside him he leaned in and whispered, "Do not worry, by the time i return they will be inseparable."

Elrond turned, raising a brow. "That is what i fear, ion-nín."

Glorfindel was pleasantly surprised that though Erestor was still not what one would consider friendly that evening at supper, there seemed to be greatly less animosity in every move he made. It gave Glorfindel a spark of hope that he had not even realized he was longing for. Though the Balrog-slayer did his best to concentrate on his conversation with Faramir, he found it rather difficult to pull his mind away from what he had noticed the day before: Erestor's hands and lips. He could not understand why he was suddenly so fascinated with them.

That night Glorfindel got no rest. Mostly it was because Faramir was not resting and so pacing and such all night, Glor' and Erestor's quarters being located just above those of the Steward, he heard every noise made. Glorfindel's heart went out to Faramir and he decided that he would give the young man a little help come morning. But now that the Elf wasn't sleeping either his mind wandered back to Erestor. Hands and lips again, though by now he realized that that obsession was simply because those were the only parts of Erestor that were ever remotely visible. He could have the body of an orc, for all Glor' knew, albeit with a nicely defined, slender chest. Suddenly the blond one was curious indeed, but knew he must not allow his curiosity to get the best of him. He had to bide his time, it was enough of a milestone just now that Erestor didn't send him death-glares every time he opened his mouth. He had to be very careful so as not to upset Erestor even in the least.

The next morning Glorfindel saw Faramir preparing for a ride just as the sun was breaking the horizon. The blond Elf hurried to the stable with a tiny vial of water taken from the Enchanted River in Mirkwood, intent on slipping a couple of drops into Faramir's canteen when he was not aware of it. Glorfindel always carried a bit in case anyone had trouble sleeping, as Elves were well acquainted with the true value of sleep, though as a rule no Elves used it to supplement their own sleep as that was not usually a problem.

Later that afternoon Glorfindel decided to check on his young charge (read: victim). As fate would have it, it happened that Erestor had rather the same idea, hoping he could make himself useful in assisting Faramir. Erestor cringed to see the Golden One approaching Faramir's study as well. Sighing he decided to treat the matter just as he would have in Imladris if they both headed to Elrond's study at the same time. Erestor would simply carry on assisting as he would, Glorfindel could do whatever he wanted. It was no matter to Erestor.

When Erestor knocked softly and received no response, he nudged the door slightly ajar, but there was still no answer. Looking in to see if there even was another there, Erestor saw Faramir laying sound asleep over a desk overflowing with parchment of all sorts. The scene was one he knew he himself had been caught in too many times to count and the dark-haired advisor understood just what it felt like to be so exhausted, though he also knew that Faramir's exhaustion had much to do with the circumstances the young man had been put through of late. His heart went out to the weary Mortal, shaking his head as he thought of all that Faramir had faced in his short years.

Glorfindel noted Erestor's shake of the head and recognized that gesture as one he had been on the receiving end of numerous times, though in those cases it was in disapproval rather than pity. "Do not dare to criticize him. He is but a boy," Glorfindel said, shocked that Erestor would hold a young Man to his own standards, which were considered exceedingly high even for an Elf. Besides that, Erestor would probably be rather angry if he knew that the most likely reason Faramir was sound asleep at his desk was because Glorfindel had slipped him that Enchanted water. Though, surely it would wear off soon, since he had heard about the sleep Faramir had at the river bank earlier.

Erestor eyed Glorfindel dryly. "That was not criticism, _mellon_, i feel sorry for him. Can you imagine how confused he must be? You recall how often Boromir spoke of him when he was in Imladris. They must have been the best of friends, but now Faramir has lost that friend. He thought he lost his father, without ever once having pleased him. But then he finds that he has a father who is overjoyed to just know him. And now he is heading suddenly into paternity, and as you say, he is but a boy as we account it."

Glorfindel took a deep breath. This was a rather precarious situation, he had intended to keep Erestor calm in hopes that he might even coax a smile out of the Noldo before they headed back to Imladris. What would appease Erestor? Ah! "Maybe we should take some of these letters? Do you think Estel would mind us helping him?" Glorfindel asked.

Erestor resisted the temptation to rolls his eyes. "I do not know what you decided to stay in this stone city for when you could have been heading back to Imladris. I, however, stayed to help this boy. If Elrond needed our assistance running our small valley realm, think what poor Faramir will need. There may be actual work for us to accomplish here." Though Erestor's tone remained dry, there could be discerned decided excitement at the thought of stacks and stacks of parchment to be set in order.

Glor' should have expected that. "You are always thinking of work and what must be done next, are you not? I decided to stay because Minas Tirith is so like to Gondolin... but you would not remember that." Glorfindel was still perfectly convinced that he remembered Erestor from Gondolin, but the dark-haired one always insisted that he had never seen Tumladen.

Erestor's stare smoldered and he struggled to keep his tone low. "Look, just because you have never exactly been an Elf of many letters.... Glor', how, pray tell, did you think all that work used to get done? It wasn't 'Elf magic,' i can tell you that!"

Glorfindel knew immediately that he had gone too far, but true to form, that did not stop him from reacting. "Do you insult me?" he said affronted.

"Never, _mellon-nín_," Erestor said, sounding every bit as sincere as he thought Glorfindel's apology the other night had been.

Glorfindel shook his head and repressed a sigh. Things between them were finally back to normal it seemed. The fair-haired Elf knew it was just too much to ask of the Valar to grant them friendship. "You do his paperwork, i intend to keep him distracted from these heavy thoughts of his by giving him a good run for his money with the dueling foil. He should be keeping up his skills with the sword as well as the pen." Glorfindel was grateful that Faramir was still in the city, at least this way he could keep company with someone other than Erestor, that was when Erestor wasn't keeping the young man shut up in his study conversing about some boring agreement.

When Erestor reached for a stack of papers, however, Faramir woke a start and before either Elf rightly knew what was happening Faramir had muttered something mostly incomprehensible before rushing out of his study. The Elves exchanged glances and followed the Steward quickly. Neither of them thought he could stand to stay in Minas Tirith together if Faramir was not around as a distraction to hide behind.

Catching up with Faramir as he was saddling his horse, each had tried to dissuade him from his hasty course of action. Erestor was rather more direct about the matter, trying to point out to Faramir that he would not be able to ride very far in his exhausted state. Glorfindel had tried to keep Faramir talking in hopes that it would take the edge off of the young man's sudden passion. Both failed though and the Steward charged out of the stable after giving some sort of rushed half-explanation about a vision and the young woman from Rohan who had reputedly killed the Witch-king of Angmar (which had rather impressed Glorfindel, it was not everyone in Middle-earth who had such a claim, though his was still more impressive, as he saw it).

Sighing Erestor and Glorfindel looked at one another. Each felt stuck with the other and wondered exactly what the people of Minas Tirith were going to do when they found out that all of their leaders were gone and the only guests remaining in the Citadel were Lord Elrond's right hands.

"Reminds you of Gondolin, does it?" Erestor said. "Then the reins are all yours, and when the people of this city rise up and term us usurpers, do not call on me. After all, since you have such memories, you know very well what caused Gondolin's fall and the fall of all Beleriand." The dark-haired Elf turned on his heels and headed off to his chambers in his normal purposeful stride. Glorfindel hated to admit it, but he quiet enjoyed the sight of Erestor rushing off like that. The way his robes billowed and his hair briefly fluttered... it made him look quite... striking. Now he just hoped that he could do something to appease Erestor again and find his way onto his good side. It would certainly be new territory for the Vanya who had seen every land in Middle-earth and some in Valinor as well.

When Glorfindel woke in the middle of the night to the realization that Faramir had charged off carrying the same waterskin that he had that morning at the river, he realized that his chances of ever charting the region of Erestor's good side had not a Hobbit's chance in Mordor. Furthermore, when he realized that not only was it he who had put that mixture into Faramir's supply, but also he who had taken the canteen to the Steward when they followed him to the stable, as he had noticed that Fara' had left it by his desk, Glorfindel wondered if it was not possible that he might have the unmitigated pleasure of visiting the Vala Lord Námo again rather soon.

---

_Nothing much to mention. Those who read Chaos Theory probably recognized a lot of this chapter. I will try not to do that too much, but i felt it important to keep the link between the stories. _

_I wonder if Glorfindel is starting to understand what Erestor has dealt with, being attracted to someone who ignores you, who you are fairly sure you will never have. Let's just hope for Glor's sake that Erestor lightens up a little._


	13. Minas Tirith

Faramir's study.

Glorfindel had a good idea of where he would be able to find Erestor. Since leaving Imladris nothing had changed, the Noldo still found a way to bury himself with the work of others. Glorfindel was sure that he really actually enjoyed it and the Vanya considered that to be a Masochistic tendency. But then again, going to Erestor with the sort of information he had he also considered rather self-abusive as well. He wondered exactly what Erestor was capable of and if he could be worse than a Balrog.

Not bothering to knock, Glorfindel entered Faramir's study to find just what he expected: Erestor had at work, less than an hour after sunrise. Though the dark-haired advisor did all he could to ignore the blond Elf, Glorfindel summoned his courage and made himself as well as his confession known at once. "Erestor, it might be best for you to know that yesterday evening young Faramir rode forth with his waterskin containing water from Mirkwood's Enchanted River," he said all in one breath, waiting in fear for Erestor's reply, resisting the temptation to run away.

Erestor looked up very slowly from the parchment he was pouring over. He met Glorfindel's eyes and noted his terror, poorly concealed behind a mask of bravery. There was only one Elf in all of Arda that he knew of who carried that vile water around with him. What could have possibly possessed the idiot Vanya to give it to the Steward of Gondor, Estel's own son? What political ramifications could this have? What could happen to that poor lad when he drank that stuff out in the middle of nowhere? What would the people of Minas Tirith do to them when this was brought to their attention some way? Erestor stared at Glorfindel and shouted, "You gave him WHAT?!" If the people of the city did not kill them first, Erestor was rather sure that he would take care of Glorfindel for them before long.

Finally, the tension broke. Glorfindel breathed again, if Erestor had remained silent much longer he was going to go mad. Now all he had to do was try to explain this in such a way that would calm Erestor down and save his pride at the same time. "The idea was that he should drink it when he went to the riverbank yesterday morning and have some sleep. He did not sleep that night, i could hear him pacing until dawn. When that guard told me he found him asleep i figured it worked. Then when we found him sleeping in the study i thought it just had not yet worn off. In the stable i handed him his waterskin, fortunately i saw he had left it by his desk... i noticed it was a little heavy yet, but i thought nothing of it -"

"Fortunately, you say? You have been trying to find new ways to get killed ever since Námo sent you back here after you slew that Balrog, haven't you? See here now, good Master of the Golden Flower, you will not drag me down with you like a fell demon! If you have any sense of decency left, you will go out there and find that boy," Erestor ordered. He wondered if Glorfindel's choice of words was not meant in sarcasm, but looking at him he knew that he really thought that it was fortunate in some strange way that he had found Faramir's waterskin. In any other situation it would have been, but filled with Mirkwood water it was likely to be their doom. But then again, it seemed that Glorfindel was drawn to doom, or maybe it was just the curse that Erestor thought he bore. Silently, the Noldo reminded himself to work a bit harder on hating Glorfindel again, not that it would be difficult if his lack of common sense ended up getting them lynched by angry Mortals.

Glorfindel looked about, having not anticipated that he would expected to ride out after Faramir. After all, what harm could a little sleep be for him? He knew one thing however - he could not go searching for Faramir with Erestor with him. Between the distraction he had been experiencing lately around the advisor and Erestor's sharp tongue, he would surely not have any luck. "What about you? It would be faster if we split up," Glorfindel offered with what he considered a bit of quick thinking, making sure to disguise his reasoning for not wanting Erestor to go searching with him.

Erestor stared and took a step back behind Faramir's desk. He was not about to get dragged into Glorfindel's latest political faux pas. "Oh no! You got yourself, and that poor young man, into this; now you can very well get back out on your own. Besides, someone has to stay here and keep order with these people, if they don't behead me. I do not believe they are all as educated as Faramir about Elves. Now go and find him. In case you are not aware, he is not going to sleep well for a night like Elrond or i, or you, would under such influence. He will probably be asleep for a week or so. That leaves you plenty of time to find him before someone else does and me plenty of time to end up being deposed or more."

At that Glorfindel left rather quickly and in a high state of annoyance with Erestor. And yet there was a very nagging feeling that seemed to be emanating from somewhere rather near his heart which seemed to tell him that he was not really annoyed with Erestor as much as with himself. The odd little knot in his throat also seemed to tell him that he wished dearly that Erestor would not be so angry with him. Growling at himself for this strange display of weakness Glorfindel did his best to shake the feeling and get on with preparing to leave as quickly as possible.

When Faramir's study was again free from Vanyar Elves of the reincarnated nature Erestor sat back with a deep sigh. Once again, not for the last time, he wished that he had refused Lord Elrond and stayed comfortably at home in Imladris. He would have put up with Lindir's ear-splitting "songs" and Bilbo's elfbane to just not be considered complicit of the current circumstances. In fact, he was really starting to miss nice, quiet old Bilbo.

That day did not get better for the Chief Advisor. Several hours after Glorfindel's quick departure a number of Men calling themselves Aragorn's Council came looking for Faramir. Instead they found a Noldorin Elf who was reputedly in high standing with their new queen's father. The Council was made up of naturally suspicious Gondorians as it was and it took Erestor nigh on three hours to explain to them their Steward's absence to their liking. There were several elder Men who were clearly not so easily convinced and thought themselves terribly wise indeed. Erestor could see why Steward Denethor had kept these characters about, they made him look much more noble.

Every day thereafter was much the same for the Noldo. At least twice a day did someone come looking for Faramir only to find him and then question him fiercely. Finally, it came to the point that the best part of the city had heard that Faramir had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared, leaving some Elf from Rivendell in command of the whole kingdom. Things got so bad by the tenth day since Faramir's disappearance that men and women were standing in the streets below the windows of the Steward's study shouting in a language that Erestor could only guess to be partly Sindarin and partly Westron. That was when Erestor stopped showing himself in any manner when Anor lit the world. The dark-haired one took to the shadows of the night like one of the Avari. He would stay in the chambers Aragorn so graciously granted him all through the day, then at night steal down to Faramir's study to work on as much as he could in the Steward's stead. A number of Citadel guards lost years off their lives when a dark figure with a slight glow about him came sneaking silently around a corner in the dead of night.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel was taking a nice, leisurely, thoughtful ride about the Druadan Wood, patiently waiting to stumble across a sleeping Mortal.


	14. There and Back Again

Druadan.

After riding passed every tree in the Druadan forest over the last two weeks, Glorfindel was starting to get mildly annoyed. Perhaps Faramir had not even come that way, he could not be sure, but he had certainly expected there to be proper pathways through the woods. Even Mirkwood had paths. He wondered if Gondorians didn't just go around the woods every time they needed to get somewhere. The Balrog-slayer laughed at that thought as highly unlikely in its impracticality.

He had just begun to sing an Elven riding song, one he had started many times on the journey to Gondor. This time, however, he was able to get through the first few lines without a seething stare from the Noldo beside him. Still, it seemed that Glorfindel was never meant to take over for Lindir. Riding the very edge of the forest, Glor' looked out where the road lay beyond the trees. There lie a vaguely human form. Glorfindel sighed and rode over to Faramir.

Kneeling beside him, he immediately observed that Faramir was indeed fine, his breathing was even and his pulse was perfectly normal, he was just sound asleep. Glorfindel lifted Faramir into his arms, feeling sorry for the young Mortal. Though as he tried awkwardly to get the sleeping human to stay still atop Asfaloth he seriously wished he had stayed to rescuing injured Hobbits. At least they were small enough to handle.

As Glorfindel had suspected it would, all the movement woke the young Steward. When Glorfindel mentioned that Faramir had been asleep for the last two weeks the look of terror in Faramir's eyes alerted him to proceed with caution. Clearly this young man was still stubborn enough to attempt to see through his mission. Apparently, Faramir had had a vision in which he saw some harm done to the Lady of Rohan and he was determined to make sure that what could be stopped was stopped, or that what had to be avenged was avenged. Glorfindel, knowing a thing or two about the will of the Valar, knew very well that young Faramir's visions were not likely to be portents as much as simply a way of giving Faramir an added advantage in compassion. Glorfindel understood that there was naught that Faramir could do now to prevent harm to his lady, but the purpose of his vision was to show Faramir why he needed to be gentle in his dealings with her.

Glorfindel also knew that there was going to be only one way for him to handle to the situation at hand. He "agreed" to ride with Faramir to Rohan, since he had sent Faramir's horse back to Minas Tirith when he found it wandering riderless (a move for which Erestor was currently plotting all the different ways a Vanya could be strangled, and just hoping the people of the city didn't get to him first). As they started off, Glorfindel suggested that Faramir take a sip from his canteen, since he had been out for two weeks. The Vanya was very glad that Faramir did not question how he had survived for two weeks without eating or drinking. Glorfindel did not have long to wait then until that little sip took effect and Glorfindel was able to make for Minas Tirith again without Faramir's protest. He only hoped that Faramir wouldn't kill him when he woke up in his own bed. Though he was hopeful that Erestor might at least be pleased with him for bringing the Steward back unscathed.

Riding back into the city people clamored around them so much that Asfaloth was making negligible progress up through the seven levels. Glorfindel sighed, seeing that he would have to take charge of this. "Good people of Gondor," he said in a raised voice, "I must ask that you let me pass to the Citadel. Your Steward is very well indeed, but he is in a state of exhaustion and he needs rest." Glorfindel suppressed a grin as the people seemed to agree that Faramir definitely deserved a rest. The Vanya wondered what else he might lead the people to agree with and knew that had Erestor attempted to explain the situation the people would have seen his exasperation with him and not trusted. A smug expression threatened to appear as Glorfindel thought what an excellent commander he really was. Encouraged, Glorfindel continued. "Young Faramir is in the best care in Middle-earth, i myself have assisted Lord Elrond of Imladris for centuries now and i can assure you that i will have Faramir back to his office in a matter of mere days!"

Luckily, before Glorfindel's ego ran away with him, Erestor stepped out from the gate to the sixth level and ushered him up the Citadel immediately. Erestor had noticed how well the people received Glorfindel's explanations, and had also clearly noticed the looks of suspicion some of them wore when he appeared. Though Erestor was wholly relieved that Faramir was all right, he reminded himself to be angry at Glorfindel for a number things, sending that lone horse back (and causing a panic with the people that he was hard pressed to quell), for taking two weeks to get back, and for being so damned popular.

For the next two days until Faramir woke again, Glorfindel had taken over speaking to the people of the city who wanted answers. By the end of the first day, Glorfindel had noticed a decided trend that the majority of those who wanted to see him were in fact females. Minas Tirith was indeed reminding him of Gondolin. He was actually almost relieved when on the third day since arriving in the city again a guard told him that Master Erestor wanted him to come directly to the Steward's quarters as the young Man was showing signs of waking.

After a rather hesitant explanation of what had happened to Faramir and what his visions really meant, Glorfindel was relieved, though not as much as Erestor was, that Faramir seemed to admit that matters would be best if he did not rush off to Edoras just then. Glorfindel was also greatly surprised to learn that Erestor did not seem to mind looking at him or hearing his voice. Not that he seemed exactly friendly, but certainly tolerant, at the very least. Perhaps, Glorfindel thought, absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder. Maybe... just maybe.

That night as Glorfindel lie down for the night he found himself wondering what it would be like to have another beside him. Glor' shuddered, wondering where in Arda these thoughts had been coming from. Maybe it was due to his reincarnation, certainly he had never thought of any one in Gondolin in such a manner. Or maybe, he thought, he was going mad somehow. He always suspected that it could not be truly healthy to live in the home of the Terrible Twins for a long while.

With the rising of the sun the next morning Erestor found himself arguing vociferously with Faramir not to leave again. Glorfindel accepted that Faramir truly felt that it was responsibility to go to Éowyn, no matter what. Erestor contested every single point the two of them made until finally he grew sick of the whole situation and agreed to continue to keep Faramir's study for him. Sinking into a nearby chair Erestor cursed himself for his concession, the one he made way back in Imladris. He should have refused, he thought again, not for the last time.

---

_Stuck together again... perhaps this time someone will give in - maybe, or maybe not. Warning: Next chapter contains excessive Dorwinion consumption._


	15. The Dorwinion Effect

The next two months.

Since Glorfindel's return and Faramir's re-departure, Erestor had stopped moving about only at night again. He reasoned that it was safe to be seen, since the whole city was rather enamored of the Vanya Elf who was the one answering all their questions. However, now that Erestor was freed up to take care of Faramir's work, he simply was not content. That was when he decided to transport the contents of Aragorn's study into Faramir's and take on the work of both the King and the Steward of Gondor. Erestor loved a challenge a bit too much, but since he no longer had Elrond to beat at chess regularly, this would have to suffice. As it was, Erestor had decided to forego sleep, working night and day and seeming very nearly merry about it.

Glorfindel, who made it a point to rarely visit Erestor in fear that he might spoil this atypical mood the Noldo had taken, wondered if he was not just testing his limits to see how long he could both drown himself in work and forsake sleep until he worked to death. Maybe that was one of the "new ways to get yourself killed" Ere' had mentioned when he learned of the Enchanted water in Faramir's canteen.

Then the Dwarves came.

When some poor young guard had notified Erestor that a host of Dwarves had arrived Erestor stared at him as though he had sprouted a tail. It was not possible, he had just put down a missive from some Dwarf-lord or other stating that the company would be arriving in another month. Erestor was not overly fond of Dwarves very much, almost a strange trait for one of the Noldor race, who might not have exactly welcomed Dwarves with open arms, but certainly had more dealings with them then the Sindar and others. Knowing that Aragorn would be back within the month, Erestor decided he would rather simply not think about a pack of Naugrim converging on the White City. It would not be his matter to deal with.

Now, however, it suddenly was his matter to deal with. 'Diplomacy, Erestor...,' he repeated silently to himself over and over as he walked out to meet the Dwarves who had come. Erestor forced himself to ignore the gravelly grumbles that began when the Elf advisor walked in to the hall they were waiting in. It was not that he minded all Dwarves at all; when he had come through Rivendell, Erestor found Thorin Oakensheild to be rather enjoyable and dignified company. It was the ones who had not respect for the Eldar that made him bristle. Judging by the grumbles he was trying his damnedest to tune out, these Dwarves were not like Thorin. 'Diplomacy... for Estel,' he said, taking a deep breath.

After an explanation that Aragorn had not yet returned from King Theoden's funeral and would likely not for another month (which brought forth even louder grousing from the guests), Erestor found them lodging and invited them to enjoy Minas Tirith and to get acquainted with the city. They would not begin work without the King's say so and Erestor hoped dearly that they would just stay where he had them put, down on the first level by the gate. Cursing them under his breath in Quenya, Erestor hurried back to the Citadel, highly angered that they had come early and would be hanging around with nothing to do, since they refused to touch a stone, when they could at least get started. Erestor hated the mismanagement of time.

While the Dwarves were in Minas Tirith, the dark-haired one was ever more harried and hurried. He poured himself even deeper into his assumed work. One evening while wholly (and happily) entrenched in sorting greetings of various natures, he had an unexpected guest. Glorfindel had decided to drop by the Steward's study to say hello. He brought with him a bottle of Dorwinion and a pair of globets. Hearing the blond enter and trying to ignore him, a treasonous thought wrapped itself around Erestor's mind: the real reason he had elected to inundate himself with work was and always had been to remain distracted from Glorfindel. It was, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), not going to be so easy this time.

"Look what i found in Estel's chamber...," Glor' said, presenting the bottle. No doubt about it, it was Dorwinion wine from King Thranduil's private stock - Erestor's secret weakness.

"Very nice," the advisor said dryly, begging himself to concentrate on working, and silently begging Glorfindel not to pull the cork.

A squeak and a low pop caused Erestor to stiffen and steel himself. He would not take a drink... would not take a drink.... But Glorfindel also had a very deep appreciation for the most excellent vintage in Middle-earth. He slowly poured himself a glass, Erestor trying not to watch the rich, velvety red liquid as Glorfindel swirled it in a manner that seemed utterly seductive. The blond savored the fine aroma before teasingly, temptingly passing the glass in front of Erestor's line of vision before gracefully drawing it back and taking a sip. A smile of satisfaction warmed Glorfindel's features, telling Erestor that it was a perfect bottle.

A few of Glorfindel's sips later and Erestor was looking like a starved waif. Why, Glorfindel thought he looked like he might do almost anything for a glass of the liquid pleasure in front of him. "May i offer?" Glorfindel said, sounding charismatic as he poured Erestor a glass even before the Noldo could refuse, thinking he should have found this sooner.

Erestor pouted in obvious conflict, drawing a deep grin from Glorfindel. Erestor looked several times between the stack of parchment he was working on and the glass Glorfindel held. Sighing, he set down his quill and accepted the wine. The first sip nearly made him shudder in pleasure. It had been years since they last did anything grand enough in Imladris to warrant the Dorwinion which was so hard to come by so far west. Glorfindel's grin grew feral as he noted that wave of pleasure that swept the pedantic advisor. Oh, indeed, he should have found this much sooner!

By Erestor's third glass he was beginning to look like Glorfindel had never before seen him... relaxed. He had left Faramir's desk and was sitting by the hearth and, lo and behold, he was holding a conversation with Glorfindel and had yet to look like he was only just stifling the word "idiot." Glorfindel poured the last glass for Erestor and wondered if he would get through it, Erestor was looking sleepy. As he leaned in to press the glass into Erestor's hand and make sure that he had a grip on it before pulling back Glorfindel somehow found himself mere inches from Erestor's lips. Glorfindel quickly closed that gap.

The dark-haired Elf did not fight, and for some reason that he was not able to explain, he leaned into the kiss, even going so far as to take the initiative to deepen it to a less than proper level. All track of time and space was lost then until simultaneously Erestor felt a hand stroking his thigh and heard a tap at the study door. Erestor bolted upright and shoved Glorfindel away so hard that the Vanya landed on the floor. Standing tall, Erestor strode with indignity to the door and brushed passed the guard who had knocked, looking back at Glorfindel in something that could be termed disgust. He all but fled back to his chambers.


	16. A New Hurt

Erestor's chamber.

The dark-haired one slammed the door behind him with more force than even he expected. Not caring about it, he also slammed the windows shut and angrily pulled the drapes closed. The stars in the night sky had seemed to be looking at him and he wanted no such thing as he fought to keep back the hot tears that burned his eyes and choked him. Erestor sat for a moment on the edge of the turned-down bed, staring blankly ahead before crawling under the heavy blankets and drawing in upon himself in hurt. Unbidden, the thought of that kiss came rushing back, along with the small stir of pleasure he felt with that touch at his thigh. That caused Erestor to let go, at long last, of all the tears he had worked so hard to hide over the many years.

How many long, long years had he waited for such a moment as the one that occurred only a few minutes ago in Faramir's study? How many nights had it haunted his dreams? How many days had he found himself unable to concentrate at a council meeting or on the papers in front of him? But now, looking at Glorfindel's actions, he felt used.

For one thing, Glorfindel had certainly never shown the slightest affection before, and now that they were the only two Elves for leagues around, certainly it was convenient for Glorfindel to have need of a lover. Add to that the fact that Glorfindel had tried to take advantage of him by using his one weakness against him like that and Erestor could not describe what he was feeling as anything but deep hurt. For years Erestor had silently loved Glorfindel, at times against his own will, and wanted so badly to taste his kiss, only for the object of his love to use him. Erestor wept to think that all he had ever wanted from Glorfindel was a single word of tenderness, and all Glorfindel had ever wanted from him was a stand-by sex toy.

Eventually Erestor felt he had no tears left to shed and emotional exhaustion had the mercy of letting him fall into a deep sleep. When morning rose, Erestor had overcome the agony of the past night's betrayal of his very heart. Instead of sulking, Erestor dressed and went about his work with a whole new ruthless efficiency. If others had joked that he was a cold Elf before, he was determined to make that look like a sweltering summer day.

When Glorfindel had spotted the Noldo going about the halls of the Citadel he chuckled lightly to himself. He had in fact expected Erestor to act stand-offish come morning, and as he had slipped into bed the previous night he felt rather sorry for going just a bit too fast for the dark one, but Glor' felt confident that he had made some excellent progress. For today, his main task was to locate the rest of the King's Dorwinion so he knew where go when Erestor's mood passed. He was proud of himself for remembering how much Erestor loved the vintage, but moreover the Vanya only knew that he had to have another of Erestor's kisses soon. All of his strange thoughts of late were starting to make sense, and Glorfindel could not hide his smile or the odd giggle that escaped him when the reality came to him that he was in love.

Every night as Minas Tirith lay quietly asleep, Erestor lay awake hating himself for the desire he felt to have Glorfindel touch him again, much as Glorfindel lay awake desiring to touch Erestor again. The Vanya knew he had to be willing to bide his time, though, and not make any sudden moves that might scare off his raven-haired beauty. Glor' began to grow a little concerned when days had passed and still Erestor seemed colder than ever. He wondered if he had not seriously offended Erestor and hoped dearly that he hadn't. But he did his best to simply be patient and give Erestor all the time he needed. Another concern that weighed on him was the fact that he had yet to find more of Estel's Dorwinion, and that he might have to enlist the help of the kitchen staff in the matter. Surely the King of Men had more than just that bottle?

Glorfindel knew Estel was due to return to his kingdom in less than a week now and he was glad that at last, after several weeks of iciness that rivaled Helcaraxe, Erestor had started to ease up. Little did Glor' know that Erestor hadn't really eased up so much as he started to give up. In the back of Erestor's mind, even through his deep hurt, there had been hope that Glorfindel meant his kiss truly. But as the weeks passed by without Glorfindel even trying to say anything to him or giving him anything but amused, leering glances, Erestor firmly believed that he had in fact been used.

Glorfindel had decided at the end of a particularly long day to try Erestor's mood. Glor' had spent the last several days assuring the Dwarven workers that Aragorn would be back very soon indeed so that they could begin the rebuilding their kinsman Gimli, Gloin's son, had called upon them for. He should have known better than to try to see Erestor again when they were both in such tense states, but Glor' had honestly thought that maybe they could benefit each other and take the edge off. Besides, he thought, at least he could hide from the Dwarves in Faramir's study for a while.

Walking in unannounced, Glorfindel was treated to quite a sight. The general desk area, and Erestor with it, was in total disarray. There was paperwork, literally, everywhere and Erestor looked like he was actually hemmed in by tottering stacks. The contradiction to Glorfindel's image of the painstakingly tidy Erestor evoked a laughter that not even the Balrog-slayer could hold at bay.

Erestor glared killer icicles at the intruder.

"Oh, feeling a little perturbed, are you?" Glorfindel said, trying to lighten the mood. "At least you have not a pack of _Naugrim_ turning up every few hours with the same complaint." It did not work and Glorfindel found himself slightly frightened by the tone Erestor replied in.

Clearly Erestor's tongue matched the icicles in his eyes. "If they did, _mellon-nín,_ I would know how to make their complaining cease, permanently."

Glorfindel grinned after conquering a dusting of fear. It was definitely time he got Erestor to loosen up. Unfortunately, there was only one way he knew of doing so and never once before had it worked on the Noldo. "I am sure you would," Glorfindel agreed, "the Valar know you could bore the most hard-of-hearing Dwarf directly to Mandos." This time Glor' had gone so far as to bring his own experiences into the matter, hoping that would prove to Erestor his good will.

Not only did Erestor not buy it, but he rose and stared directly at his opponent. He had been waiting for this confrontation and he intended to pull no punches. "A Dwarf, even the most insufferable, being sent to Mandos by my boredom-inducing speech, would remain there, instead of driving Lord Námo so annoyed that he _sent back _the pestilence." Erestor hoped his words made clear his feelings once and for all concerning Glorfindel. He hoped Glorfindel would take the hint and go back to Mandos on his own, immediately. But he hoped most of all that he could fool himself into believing that it didn't hurt that Glorfindel was so near him again.

Glorfindel then abandoned his attempt to lighten anything. Erestor's barb struck too true, as did the impression that the joy he felt in realizing that he was in love was, apparently, not requited. Glorfindel felt his pride and ego taking over as he stepped challengingly closer to Erestor. "At least _i _actually _did something_ heroic enough to wind up in the Halls of Mandos! Unless you cut your finger on a poisoned parchment, you will be remembered by these mortals in the ages to come as 'Erestor: Chief Advisor to Lord Elrond,' whilst i have the honor of 'Glorfindel: Warrior of Gondolin, Defender of the People, Selfless Slayer of Balrogs, Servant of the Vala Lord Námo....' Well, i think you understand. One day these mortal children shall wonder that one Elf could really have ever been so great and some will be convinced that there must have been two Elves named Glorfindel. I shall be remembered as -"

As Glorfindel rambled on egoistically Erestor felt his hand grip around the hilt of a small sword that was kept on the underside of the Steward's desk for protection. It was a lucky thing for Glorfindel that he had chosen to wear his scabbard belt just to impress his importance when dealing with the Dwarves earlier. Erestor, wholly fed up, drew the sword and without a word engaged Glorfindel mid-self-praising-sentence.

Such was the scene that Aragorn was treated to when he arrived back to his home and decided to investigate the Elven shouting coming from his son's study.

---

_What we have here is a failure to communicate. How odd, considering that the first Elves called themselves the Quendi because it meant to talk or communicate. Those who have read the Sil' might have learned that Elves highly value communication._

_AM: Yes, it is a little tease, isn't it!_

_Haldir's Heart & Soul: He did, and Erestor got to kiss him. There will be more to come, but right now Erestor is really hurt by his preceptions. _


	17. Fire and Ice

The return of the King

Aragorn stared in wonder of the sight before him. He was not aware that Erestor actually had developed any ability with a sword, and to see him with it at the throat, of all people, the mighty Glorfindel, came as something of a shock to the King.

Erestor was the first to drop the sword in his hand and recover, greeting Aragorn as though nothing was amiss. Glorfindel followed suit, refusing to be outdone by Erestor's hospitality. "You look road-weary, mellon," Glorfindel said, "if you had but sent word, i would have _gladly_ ridden out to meet you."

Aragorn had yet to exactly get over what he had walked in on, realizing that when he told Elrond that he was confident that the two would-be lovers would be inseparable by his return that this was in fact what his father feared. He told Glorfindel that he had in fact sent word that he would be back on time and was afraid that the young messenger who had gone forth from Edoras had been intercepted before reaching Minas Tirith.

Erestor assured him however, that the lad had arrived well and would be returning to his own kingdom the next day. Ever since Erestor had received the message he had been trying to get everything ready for his return.

Glorfindel, hearing that Erestor had obviously made it a point not to share his information, felt his anger flaring again and involuntarily tightened his grip on the sword he still held at his side. "Why, then, _mellon_," he said thickly, "did you not _tell me _of Estel's impending return?"

"Ha!" Erestor laughed humorlessly. "So that you could ride off to greet him and leave me stuck here with those Naugrim? Not in ten thousand years!"

Glorfindel made a swift move forward, but Aragorn made a swifter move to block the Balrog-slayer. Aragorn shook his head in disillusionment. "I really had thought that at some time in the last several thousand years the two of you might have worked through your differences."

"I have tried!" the Vanya nearly shouted, looking directly at Erestor. 

"_You_ have _tried_?" Erestor spat incredulously.

For a moment or two there was a staring contest between the Elves as each tried to outdo the angry passion in the other's eyes before they both turned to Aragorn, each pointing at the other and said in perfect synchronicity, "That Elf is the most intolerable being i have ever encountered!"

Both were momentarily stunned and Glorfindel had dropped his sword, but that effect only lasted that moment and then they were face to face shouting at each other in something that sounded like an incomprehensibly impassioned mix of Quenya and Sindarin and, if Aragorn heard right, a few Dwarvish curses from Erestor into the bargain. The Man decided it best if he refrained from becoming involved and picked up the dropped swords, moving gingerly around the livid Elves and slipping away to his own study. The last thing he needed was to witness a kinslaying in his own home.

After Aragorn left the room the shouting could still be heard throughout that floor and Erestor hissed at Glorfindel to lower his tone to a more seemly level.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes at being spoken to as though he was an unruly child. Erestor was obviously concerned with little other than reputation and dignity. The one thing that could really anger Glorfindel more than anything was those who wasted their lives worrying about being reputable. He knew first hand that there was much more meaning to life, especially for the Eldar, than to waste their immortal lives in such a dour fashion "Do you know what your problem is, Erestor?" Glorfindel all but shouted. "You have never known death, and thus you can not know life!"

At that comment all the rage left Erestor as he stood just staring at Glorfindel. The day he had to stand by and watch the Vanya be dragged down into that rocky abyss by the Balrog, and the ensuing years of sometimes out of control regret, flooded him with pain. No, Erestor most certainly knew death. Erestor's voice dropped to a dangerously low tone when he said unequivocally, "_im delotha le_," before turning and rushing away.

Glorfindel stood there, unable to move for a while. For an Elf to say such a thing was very grave indeed and it would have to have taken great feeling on Erestor's part to have said it to Glorfindel. For Glorfindel, it was not as though he was altogether taken off guard, they had certainly had worse arguments over the centuries, though never had Erestor uttered those words. Now, though, as everything was silent around him, Glorfindel suddenly felt an ache he had never experienced before. It wholly overwhelmed the sturdy, noble Elda, pushing him down to his knees beside Faramir's desk. He leaned his head against the heavily craved wood and let his golden hair curtain his face. He felt like he was going to do something he no memory of doing in the entire time he had been alive - Glorfindel simply felt like crying.

---

_im delotha le - i hate you_


	18. Regret

The aftershock.

That night as Aragorn was returning from the kitchen from a late dinner he decided to stop by and check on the state of affairs in his son's study. He was relatively sure that the fighting had ended abruptly and not very long ago, if the sounds he had heard were any indication. But now all seemed very quiet - much too quiet for the Ranger's comfort. Slowly and cautiously opening the door, Aragorn stiffened noticeably when he saw Glorfindel slumped and motionless beside Faramir's desk. At least a thousand times as a child young Estel had heard Erestor mumble in rage at one of Glorfindel's frivolities, "I will kill him!"... but surely he hadn't, wouldn't!

Drawing close, Aragorn noted that Glorfindel was breathing shallowly and seemed to be asleep. He knew that Elves could sleep in all manner of situations and positions, even while walking along as he suspected Legolas of doing on numerous occasions during their latest journeys, but this seemed as though it was surely uncomfortable, even for the hard-wearing Vanya. He nudged Glorfindel slightly and the Elf stirred. Sitting upright and yawning, Glorfindel tucked his errant golden locks behind his pointed ears as he looked around concerned at having fallen asleep in an unfamiliar place before he recognized the study from a floor level.

Aragorn had a seriously difficult time keeping from laughing at the deep impression of a flower and trailing vine that was stamped clearly on Glorfindel's forehead from where he had leaned against the desk in anguish. Though when he noticed the redness and slight puffiness around Glorfindel's eyes, he sobered up and felt a wave of pity. Glorfindel stood up slowly, feeling a little discomfited as he tried to think of a way to explain everything to young Estel. Sometimes Glorfindel forgot that Estel was not as young as he looked.

"Glorfindel, my friend, come and speak with me?" Aragorn asked, a brotherly hand on Glorfindel's broad shoulder. Nodding his consent, Glorfindel walked with Aragorn to the King's private quarters, a very comfortable and luxurious chamber that Aragorn had actually yet to use. It was a wonder he had even used his bed chambers yet, he was kept so constantly busy. Passing through the small reception chamber which had only received one guest so far, Aragorn looked in several places, telling himself out loud that he was sure he had left that Dorwinion in there. Glorfindel cringed that King Thranduil had yet to be persuaded to send anymore. Glorfindel had a feeling that only Erestor's way with words could pry another bottle of that stuff loose and the sudden, uninvited thought of the dark-haired advisor hit the Balrog-slayer anew. Glorfindel felt the shudder of more tears welling up in his chest. Silently he reprimanded himself for getting this upset, but it was eating at him intolerably that had done something to hurt Erestor so badly.

Aragorn set aside the mission to find the Dorwinion when he noticed the deep sadness in Glorfindel's eyes. Ushering his old mentor in to sit with him by the fire, Aragorn questioned Glorfindel rather bluntly, but with all compassion, as to what had caused this latest and most violent of arguments and why he was so upset about it. Usually Glorfindel walked away from their arguments looking smug.

Glorfindel sat staring into the fire for a while. "I hardly know the cause, Estel. There has been much stress since Faramir departed, but when the Dwarves came early... i should have known Ere' would have been too tense yet."

"Too tense for what, mellon-nín?" Aragorn quietly.

"To talk to me," Glorfindel replied even softer.

Aragorn could not keep from grinning slightly. This was the first time he ever seen Glorfindel express such emotions and even though he said little, all that needed to be said was evident in the tone of his voice. To Aragorn it was plain that Glorfindel had come to realize what everyone in Rivendell, and several other Elven realms had known for ages, literally: Glorfindel was deeply in love with Erestor.

"Has he talked to you at all yet? I mean, talked, you know, as in a civil conversation rather than merely trading barbs," Aragorn said, trying to keep the tinge of dryness from his voice. He really did feel sorry for Glorfindel's situation, though he could scarcely help but think that he had gotten himself into it.

"We have conversed a few times. Once in particular, though i had the aid of your bottle of Dorwinion...," Glorfindel trailed off sheepishly.

Aragorn smiled appreciatively. "Good, i am glad it went to good use then. It would have gathered dust here, i certainly can't survive that stuff as much as you can, even if i was practically raised on it. No thanks to you!"

Glorfindel felt a slight grin tugged at the corners of his lips. How many times he had sneaked Estel a sip of Dorwinion when he was but a child, he could not count. The smile quickly vanished though when he thought of the disapproving scowl Erestor had always shot him.

"How can i help you, my old friend?" Aragorn asked coaxingly.

Glorfindel laughed cheerlessly. "Can you teach me how to talk to Erestor without incurring his wrath or hurting him?"

Aragorn smiled sadly. "The great lover of Gondolin, Glorfindel, asks for my courting advice?"

Glorfindel shrugged. "Great lover, yes. But that does not mean i know how to love. You should not trouble yourself, though, Estel. You have many concerns and i fear that any advice you might give me would be for naught. Erestor despises me and he shall never change his mind. Whatever i have done to offend him, it must have been terrible, though i do not even know my crime."

Offering an encouraging arm around his shoulder, Aragorn said to Glorfindel, "That is exactly where you should start, mellon-nín. Never has a dispute been settled without each party making plain their grievances. Seek Erestor and see if he will not at least give you the opportunity to make amends. He is one of the most reasonable Elves i have met, and i feel sure that if you simply do not lose your patience with him, he will eventually be willing to try to talking things over with you."

"You seriously think that?" Glorfindel said.

Aragorn nodded. "Yes, Glor', i do. Father would tell you the same."

"Has told me the same... on occasions too numerous to mention. I fear it is different this time, though. Whatever i have done or said, i fear that Erestor is truly hurt by it. It is just that every time i am around Erestor i do not know how to acquit myself. I treasure every moment of life and try to fill my time here with mirth, because i know that it can be ended, even for an Elf, and i just wish Erestor could be the same. But i always just end up acting like a fool."

Aragorn shook his head. "Well, then, you shall simply have to be all the more careful in your apology, am i not right?"

That night as Glorfindel resolved to stop being so hotheaded around Erestor and instead be more receptive of the other Elf, Erestor lay in his bed fighting a losing battle with his anger at Glorfindel. Anger had always eased the hurt of being ignored as a candidate for Glorfindel's affection, but this time Erestor could not even muster the energy to be irritated about the situation. All he felt was pain, encompassing pain. Glorfindel had no idea what he was going through, and that was just the trouble, the fact that he had never bothered to find out. He deeply regretted saying that he hated Glor', nothing could have been further from the truth and that was something that Elves did not say lightly. But at the moment it certainly felt like he hated him and Erestor figured that it would not matter much to Glorfindel anyway what he thought of him.

Erestor did not know what to do. He could little stand to stay in Minas Tirith with Glorfindel any longer, even if Estel had returned. But he felt duty bound to remain until Faramir had also returned. After that, he hoped he could be gone home to Imladris. Maybe it was even coming time for him to seek Círdan at Mithlond, he thought. Unable to sleep, Erestor rose and went down to Faramir's study where he comforted himself with what he now considered his one true friend: work.

---

_Haldir's Heart & Soul: I believe Aragorn and you agree on the matter of Glorfindel's attitude adjustment. Let's just hope Erestor agrees as well._


	19. Together

Two days later.

Erestor had successfully stayed hidden from Glorfindel since the night he had been trying to repress. Moreover, he had done his best to convince himself that Glorfindel meant utterly nothing to him. Keeping himself in Faramir's study night and day, Erestor managed to finally get everything set in order just as day was dawning. The young Steward had unexpectedly arrived the morning after the duel and Erestor had worked with all efficiency to get his study back into shape by the next day. Erestor glanced about, ensuring that everything was in place before removing to the room adjoining the study to freshen up. When he heard Faramir enter his study, Erestor greeted him succinctly then quickly made his way to his chambers to sleep, thinking that anyone who was foolish enough to wake him would deserve precisely what they would receive.

When Erestor woke, night had fallen and the advisor was feeling greatly rested, if not a little hungry. He was making his was to the kitchen when, passing Aragorn's study, the king called out to him, asking for a moment of his time. Erestor always had a difficult time refusing the Estel when he was the young foster-son of Elrond and little had changed.

Aragorn said that he had wished to discuss all that had been accomplished before his return from Edoras and invited Erestor to sit with him on his balcony, which at the moment just happened to strategically overlook a lonely looking Elda, sitting on a wall below.

"What is it that you wish to discuss, Estel? I must tell you that though those blasted Dwarves came a month early, they refused to...." Erestor drew a deep breath, seeing Glorfindel just below. He started to say that perhaps they should move their discussion elsewhere, when his Elf-eyes noticed the tearstains trailing the other Elf's face.

Erestor felt great pity well up within him, but fought not to show it to Aragorn. "What is his trouble?" Erestor asked, hoping he sounded unconcerned.

"He feels that he has been rejected by the one whom he loves more than all else," Aragorn said truthfully. "As i understand it, that can be a very painful experience."

"If you are under the delusion that he is in love with me and i with him, you had best look again, Estel. I do not -" Erestor glanced below just in time to see Glorfindel tightening his eyes against a fresh wave of hot tears, laying his head in the crook of his arm which rested on his bent knee. Erestor sighed, having been in that same position himself many times. "He really is hurting," the advisor more stated than asked.

"As much as you are," Aragorn said, laying a hand on Erestor's uncharacteristically slumped shoulder.

Erestor sighed and shrugging Aragorn's hand away he walked out of the King's study. A few moments later he watched Erestor walking out and having a seat on the wall beside Glorfindel. The Mortal king could not catch all of their long, quiet conversation (though it may be said that he certainly did make an attempt), but what he did hear clearly enough was:

"Erestor, i apologize for everything i have done wrong. I only want you to forgive me. I love you so much, my dark one."

To which the reply came:

"I do forgive you, for i love you too, my golden one."

Aragorn grinned as he watched Glorfindel reach out to gently touch Erestor's face. The Vanya rose, leaning closer until their lips met, almost hesitantly at first and then deeper until Glorfindel had gathered Erestor into his arms, pressing their bodies close together. When Aragorn saw Erestor flick his tongue over Glorfindel's sensitive ear-tip, he knew precisely what would follow. Being raised in Imladris had it's advantages.

Both Glorfindel and Erestor had the feeling that they were being watched. Neither cared.

_Fin._


	20. Alternate Ending

****

Alternate ending:

Two days later.

Erestor had successfully stayed hidden from Glorfindel since the night he had been trying to repress. Moreover, he had done his best to convince himself that Glorfindel meant utterly nothing to him. Keeping himself in Faramir's study night and day, Erestor managed to finally get everything set in order just as day was dawning. The young Steward had unexpectedly arrived the morning after the duel and Erestor had worked with all efficiency to get his study back into shape by the next day. Erestor glanced about, ensuring that everything was in place before removing to the room adjoining the study to freshen up. When he heard Faramir enter his study, Erestor greeted him succinctly then quickly made his way to his chambers to sleep, thinking that anyone who was foolish enough to wake him would deserve precisely what they would receive.

Through the day Erestor did sleep, though he wished he hadn't. Having finally gained control over his waking thoughts, he found that he still could not control the paths that were set before him by the Vala Lorien as he slept. Waking roughly after dreaming of Glorfindel's kiss, Erestor decided that he had had quite enough. Night had fallen about the gleaming white city, aiding Erestor in traversing the corridors unnoted. His plan was to go to the stables, tack up Mornië, and leave Minas Tirith for the sanctuary of Imladris. He hoped Glorfindel would refrain from riding out after him.

Sighing, Erestor realized that his conscience would not allow him to leave without alerting Estel. Going to his study Erestor found the door closed and had nearly decided to go to Faramir instead when the door opened. Of all people, why did it have to be him? Why could he never escape the Golden One?

Glorfindel, emerging from an encouraging talk with Estel, halted to see the subject of their discussion had materialized there in the hallway. This was not exactly in their discussion, nor as Glorfindel had imagined it, but taking a deep breath, the Balrog-slayer reminded himself of one of Elrond's favorite sayings, "There is no time like the present." Finding a smile, Glorfindel respectfully asked Erestor if he would consent to talk with him.

Erestor straightened and forced himself not to look into Glorfindel's pleading eyes. Why did the Vanya look so desperate to talk to him? Erestor's mind spun, going from telling him over and over to hear Glor' out to prodding him to turn and run. Within the moment he stood in indecision, fear of rejection won out and sent the advisor dashing away leaving only the word "no" ringing in Glorfindel's ears.

Glorfindel's heart beat in distressed disappointment. Estel had him so convinced that if he just asked Erestor to talk that surely he could not refuse something so simple, but Erestor had refused, and moreover, he had fled from him. Glorfindel lowered his head for a moment, whispering "what did i do to you?" before rushing after Erestor. The Noldo had been wearing a riding cloak and thus Glorfindel ran immediately to the stables. "Erestor! Dartho!" Glorfindel called pleadingly, seeing Erestor leading Mornië out his stall. "Erestor... saes, dartho," he said softer, walking up to the dark-haired one. "Do not go, i beg of you," Glorfindel repeated as he stared into the dark pools of hurt of Erestor's eyes.

Erestor fought to keep the tears from his eyes and he trembled slightly from the effort. "What care you if i leave or stay? Does it trouble you that you might not have someone to torment? Or that without me you have no new plaything to conquer?"

Glorfindel closed his eyes, realizing now that Erestor had entirely misread his actions. He cursed himself for not making his feelings more plain sooner, but then again, he had only just come to understand them since arriving in Gondor. Erestor had grown impatient waiting for Glorfindel's reply to his rhetorical question and brushed passed Glorfindel, walking beside his horse out of the stable. As Glorfindel opened his eyes to see the one who had awakened the heart of the strong warrior walking away, his words stuck in his throat. They were simply too new to him and he had never before learned how to get his lips to utter them. Turning away and shutting his eyes tightly against the hot tears that streamed out despite, Glorfindel could manage no more than a whisper that even Erestor's Elf ears probably could not hear.

Erestor turned one last time as he stopped to readjust Morni's saddle skirt before mounting and hurrying away. Erestor saw Glorfindel had turned back and allowing one last moment of weakness to take in Glorfindel's beautiful glow, which seemed less perfect now, Erestor told himself that he would technically have nothing to regret this time as he whispered the three words he had waited ages, literally, to say to the Vanya.

Erestor stared as he heard his own words spoken in unison, just as softly, in Glorfindel's voice. Glorfindel lifted his head and the flow of tears that assaulted him ceased, he was sure he had just heard his own words mirrored in Erestor's unmistakable voice. Turning, he walked toward Erestor, seeing it all plainly in those dark eyes. A smile formed on Glorfindel's tear-stained face as he took the reigns from Erestor, and holding Erestor's hands in his own, leaned in for another of those kisses he had been dreaming about.

_Fin._

---

_I ask you, the reader, which ending you liked best. Both were happy endings, but this was a little more angsty. In the orginal ending, i just wanted them to sit down together and talk to each other, rather than putting them both through more suffering. Perhaps i will also include their conversation that Aragorn did not overhear all of in an appendix (what could be more canon for a book verse writer!) if my readers would like that._


End file.
